


Running For The Fences

by IKnowPlaces



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blind Matt Murdock, Boyband, Boyband!Steve Rogers, Consensual Sex, Drug Abuse, Drunk Dialing, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Karaoke, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Metalhead!Bucky Barnes, Musician Bucky Barnes, Musician Steve Rogers, Pop Culture, Tattooed Bucky Barnes, bucky barnes hates pop music, metalcore scene, not so much smut, references to at least a thousand bands and movies and shows because i can't help it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4875886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKnowPlaces/pseuds/IKnowPlaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers' name is everywhere. His life changed drastically when he was cast into the biggest boyband on the planet less than two years ago. He doesn't mind; he picked this life. He loves music. Steve's life is perfectly planned-through by people who aren't him. But that's never really been an issue. And then he meets Bucky. </p><p>Bucky Barnes is a metalhead at heart. He founded his metalcore-band when still in school and continues to pour his heart into his music. He works hard towards at least a little fame, or recognition, rather. He also hates pop music with a passion. That doesn't really change when he sees Steve Rogers for the first time. By the time they get to know each other, however… </p><p> <br/>The problem with this is that both men are officially straight. And there are quite a few reasons for why that should stay the same.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>On a semi-hiatus // being re-written.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first of all I would like to make very clear that this work is based entirely upon an idea [Anna](http://boah-ne-ey.tumblr.com/) shared with me a few weeks ago. So I kinda whipped the first chapter up and surprised her with it. She also gave me the go-ahead to upload this fic, so here it is for your reading pleasure as well.
> 
> This work is somewhat based upon the German movie _Groupies Bleiben nicht zum Frühstück_ (= Groupies don't stay for breakfast).
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.

_It's a scene and we're out here in plain sight._

 

 

“If I hear this song one more time I swear I will throw myself off the nearest bridge!” Bucky exclaimed, turning off the radio. He then grabbed another of the drum kit bags and made it up to Natasha.

 “I don’t know what you have against Civil War in particular, it’s just another one of those bubblegum-pop songs you despise so much?” she questioned as she carried her guitar case into the building before them.

“Yeah, but this is like, the worst. Ever. Have you ever even actually listened to it?” Truth was, he didn’t know what he had against the song exactly. He didn’t even know anything beyond the song itself, who it was by or what album it belonged to. Bucky just hated it with a passion.

“Dude, you do realize F4 is the headliner of this event, right? You’re probably gonna hear it another 12 times in the common room alone today.” Clint raised an eyebrow at him. He was just packing away his own guitar case.

“The fuck is F4, dude, stop speaking in riddles.” Bucky frowned, throwing the guitar pick he just found in the van at his friend’s head.

“Fantastic Four? The band responsible for Civil War? You know, the song on the radio you just turned off? Have you been living under a rock? They are _everywhere_.” Matt informed him. Bucky simply flipped him off, even though, since Matt was blinded when he was nine years old, he wouldn’t be able to see it.

“He just flipped me off, didn’t he?” Matt smiled to himself. He always pulled shit like this and quite frankly it freaked Bucky out a little.

“Yeah, dude, that’s so rude? Should’ve at least added a ‘fuck you’ or something so Matty here would’ve had a chance to know what’s going on?” Peter pointed a finger at Bucky, tutting him.

“I hate you all so much.”

“Nonsense, you love us and you know it.” Nat smirked and handed him a magazine. “Page 20. Educate yourself.”

 -

Bucky sat down on the couch in their tiny dressing room, opening the magazine Nat had given him.

“The next big thing? Wow, what has the world come to?” he huffed at the opening sentence. Apparently the four men were casted into the band almost two years ago through some (shitty, of that Bucky was sure) casting show on TV. Bucky was fairly sure he had never heard of _House Of M_ , although he had heard about Malekith before, who apparently ran this stupid show. Yeah, this dude was like a huge thing in pop music or something. Not that Bucky gave a flying pygmies fuck about any of that.

“Wow. They named their debut-album after the room they first auditioned in? How original. Room 616. Seriously?” Bucky snorted.

“Well, I think it’s kinda cute. That’s where they started.”

“Nat, you literally wanted to name our album after your favorite cocktail, I don’t think you’re qualified to give your opinion here.”

“Fuck you, Barnes.” Nat threw one of Matt’s drum sticks at his head.

“Natasha, I would really appreciate it if you stopped throwing my stuff. Barnes, give it back. I need to practice.” Matt held out a hand and Bucky put the drum stick back.

“You’re so lame, Murdock.” Bucky laughed, but Matt only shrugged.

“Well, opposite to other members of this band, I actually give a fuck about what we sound like on stage. So yeah, I’m gonna practice.”

“Whatever. Hey, anyone up for a look at the food this place has to offer?”

 

***

 

“Ugh. I can’t believe we have to do this!” Steve exclaimed as he flung himself into the couch cushions.

“It’s work, Steve. Just another job.” Sam shrugged, sipping on his diet coke like he was some sort of poster boy. To be fair, he sort of was. Steve was, too. They all were, really.

“You have something against cancer charities, Rogers?” Tony frowned, typing away on his phone again. He was probably texting his girlfriend Pepper. At first Steve had thought the nickname to be ridiculous, but when he had met Pepper in person, he couldn’t help but admit how fitting it was.

“That’s not it and you know it. I just hate this sitting around and waiting before a show. Hey, does anyone wanna go see some of the bands later?” Tony scoffed and shot Steve a quick glance.

“No thank you.” He said. “I’m good here.

“It’s just PR anyway, Steve. We don’t even have to be good. I mean, we will be great no matter what, but we don’t have to put too much effort into it. Sharon doesn’t really care about the donations we’ll help to raise, if we’re being honest here.” he continued.

“Do you know who else is playing? I don’t think I recognized any of the bands.” Thor threw in.

“Nah, I just gave them a quick listen. There’s this one band, Crossbones I think? They’re pretty decent. Might not be your cup of tea though, they’re doing metalcore and like, post-hardcore.”

“And such music is your cup of tea?” Thor gave him an unconvinced look.

“No, not so much.” Steve chuckled. “But that aside they do know what they’re doing. So, you up for it?” Sam and Thor agreed to go.

  
With a glance to his watch Steve realized that would still give him another two hours with nothing to do. So Steve pulled out his phone and checked his overflowing E-Mail account. That didn’t take long though, most of the messages were deleted immediately, others he forwarded to Sharon and Wanda to deal with.  
There was a message of a rather well-known model, Yelena Belova, asking if he wanted to meet up for a cup of coffee. Sighing, he turned her down politely, under the pretense that he was just too busy to date. That was, when he felt Sam nudging him.

“Dude staring at you at ten o’clock.”

Steve turned his head almost immediately.

“Your other ten o’clock.”

So Steve turned his head to the other side to see a guy in black skinny jeans and a low-cut Metallica tank top staring straight at him. He raised an eyebrow and smiled friendly at the stranger. The guy could not be older than himself, with chocolate brown hair that looked slightly messed up and a jaw line that put Michelangelo’s master piece to shame. Fuck, he was hot. The guy just looked away. Steve swallowed audibly, trying his hardest to do the same. Sam next to him tried to stifle a laugh.

“Shut up, you piece of shit.” Steve nudged him with his elbow and bestowed another look upon the mystery stranger before looking away.

He thought he had seen the guy turn away his gaze again just then, but he couldn’t be sure. It might have only been his imagination. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?

“I’m just saying.” Sam laughed “Seriously, dude’s been staring at ya for quite some time, man.” Steve just nodded absently, looking around the room.

  
At this time of day the common room of the _Say No To Cancer_ charity festival’s backstage area was fairly empty, a few employees were waiting patiently behind the tables and some of the band’s security personnel was there. The stranger seemed to be with his friends, chatting away and laughing occasionally. Not to mention that the guy’s laughter echoed from the walls and sent shivers down Steve’s spine. The things he’d give to hear his voice just talking, or – preferably – moani- _Jesus, Steve, get a grip_. You’re gay, not desperate.  
His train of thought was rudely interrupted by Sharon, who suddenly appeared out of thin air.

“Guys, your Q&A panel with Hydra magazine was pushed forward, so you have another half hour to get yourselves look presentable. I’ll see you in thirty minutes, room 0800. Do try to be on time, please.” She shot Tony a look as she said the last part, who just shrugged in return.

  
He couldn’t help being the Fantastic Four rebel. The media loved him for that. And so far he had played his part beautifully.

  
The stranger loaded a few pastries onto his plate and then sat down across the room, nipping at his beer bottle and picking at the food in front of him. He looked vaguely familiar, the kind of face you see in a crowd and never really get out of your head again. Even though Steve couldn’t see his face clearly across the room, it seemed like the guy was blushing at something his red-headed friend had said and he turned his head away from her into Steve’s direction. Then he got up and walked over across the room towards him and he felt his heart rate accelerate. Fuck. What would he say? Steve felt his cheeks burning and quickly averted his gaze to the ground. This guy was trouble. Forbidden fruit. This couldn’t happen and Steve knew it. So he pulled his phone out and started the Candy Crush app. But he couldn’t help looking up again, just a quick glance. Hottie was walking past him, sadly, towards the giant refrigerator that Steve noticed just now. He pulled out a few beers and Steve’s mind was all over the place, noticing how fucking amazing his ass looked in those jeans. He turned around on his heels, one hand still on the door handle.

“Yo Tasha, you want a light one?” He yelled across the room in a husky voice that made Steve’s head spin.

The red-headed girl narrowed her eyes at him. She was beautiful, Steve had to admit, but sort of frightening when she looked like this. She didn’t say anything, but apparently she didn’t have to. The guy just closed the door again smirking and Steve felt his eyes on him for a second.

“Gotta go Stevie.” He heard Sam say “Better not make the fans wait, right?” Steve nodded absently and picked himself up.

The group met up with Sharon, Wanda and the rest of their bodyguards in a room on the ground floor, some nameless people handed each of them a microphone, before they headed outside. They didn’t make it further than 20 feet before the screaming started. Steve would never get used to this. It was nice to a certain degree, but also a rather stressful experience. _That you picked yourself, Rogers_. Be grateful, he reminded himself. So he smiled and waved at the crowd in front of him, sitting down on one of the stools between Sam and Thor. He recognized one of the girls in the front row, what was her name again? Kamala? Something like that. He poked Thor between the ribs (which was easier said than done; Thor was a massive meatball), making him jump. Both of them waved at her. It was cute seeing the girl lose her mind over this small gesture. It was also really weird though; Steve was just a guy.

“We’re here with Fantastic Four today, are you excited?!” someone introduced them and the screaming picked up again. “Damn right! Give those guys a warm round of applause, please! Let’s get right into it. You, girl in the red shirt, you have the honor of the first question!”  
A girl no older than 13 stood up and beamed at the group, hands shaking as she was handed a microphone.

“H- hello! Uh uhm so my- my question is for Thor: Is there anything you miss about Australia when you are in the US?”

“Tim Tams.” Thor nodded beside him and shrugged.

By now he had to have said that no less than fifty times in various interviews. It was always the same, really. Most of the time Steve didn’t mind, but sometimes he was utterly annoyed by how little effort people put into their interviews. He knew all of the kids in the crowd today had to write their questions down beforehand and Sharon had looked through them all before approving them. So it was only a matter of time until the inevitable question had to come up.

“Hi guys! My name’s Kitty and I love you so much! So my question is for Steve, actually: Do you have a girlfriend?” More than a few started giggling at that. Kitty’s cheeks flushed.

Steve should be used to this by now. But he wasn’t, he never would be. The smile on his face faltered for a second. The question was simple, the answer not so much.

“No, I’m still waiting for my one true love and until I find it I’m gonna put all my energy into our music.” Steve said automatically and smiled.

It didn’t feel right. Because it wasn’t the truth, it was merely a half-truth. He said what Sharon had told him to say. It was what she knew worked best for the band’s image and he had to be okay with that, whether he liked it or not. That’s how it worked. He tried to not let it get to his head too much. Instead he concentrated on the next question and the one after that. The girls (to be honest, there were never many guys around) were sweet and most of them looked like it was a good thing an ambulance was close by.  
Time flew by and when every question was asked and answered more or less honestly, they shot a quick group picture and went back to where they came from. Sadly there was no time to go back to the common room again, Steve noticed glancing at the clock on their dressing room wall, when he wanted to see Crossbones’ whole gig. For a moment he considered staying, but Sam and Thor dragged him outside before he could protest. On their way over to the main stage they had to stop multiple times to take pictures with some employees of the event. They didn’t mind.  
When they took the few steps up to the stage and tried to find a spot at the side, where nobody would be able to see them and they wouldn’t be in the way of anyone, the band was just playing their intro. They all looked deep in thought, lost somewhere only dedicated artists went in this moment. Steve loved the moment just before a show started. When the fans screamed and the speakers blared up, but in his body was nothing other than calmness. The singer came onstage and opened the first song with a scream that went right into Steve’s bone marrow and left him dizzy for a second. And his heart dropped to the ground a second later, when he recognized the man in skinny jeans and a worn-out Metallica-tank.

“Fuck.” he muttered to himself, feeling his heart rate spike up. The thought of this guy being able to produce screams as piercing as this one did all the things to his body.

“I know, right?!” Sam beside him seemed to be rather shocked at where this song went. But then again, Sam was a Marvin Gaye fanboy, so this reaction was to be expected.

“This is definitely something different.” Thor agreed nodding, arms crossed in front of his chest.

The first few songs passed by Steve in a blur, he was far too concentrated on staring the guy down.

“If you didn’t already know by the huge backdrop behind us, we’re Crossbones from Brooklyn. And uh- given why we’re all here today I’d like to dedicate this next song to my mom Freddie who passed away from lung cancer way before her time and uh- to my sister, wherever she might be right now. This is ‘Becky’.” The guy said then.

The crowd cheered, but Steve could see him swallow before closing his eyes, holding the mic to his mouth and the other one out to the crowd.

_A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands. Left you weak, left you hungry…_

Suddenly Steve had to swallow around the lump in his throat himself. The bare emotion this guy put into every word was unreal.

_Let me paint this clear, life is short, my dear. See your mother here, her last painful year; I wish you only knew- she stuck around for you…_

Steve had to fight the urge to walk up to him and wrap his arms around him. What had this guy been through?

_I can't stand to see you down, strung out, off the wagon, and undwound. But steady, steady, Oh God, Becky, Becky, I can't bear to hear the sound of your body, body hitting the ground..._

After the song was over the guy panted and looked over the people in front of him for a moment, trying to catch his breath and, from what Steve could guess, probably stop himself from crying right there and then. The guy seemed incredibly fragile just now and Steve’s heart melted. All the thoughts of expanding his musical horizon had been wiped from his mind. Fuck, he wish he could just talk to the guy.  
He was so lost in thought that he almost missed how the red-headed girl, Tasha he had called her, poked the mystery stranger with her guitar head in between songs and nodded towards where Steve was standing. He turned his head confused and Steve felt his eyes on him, growing wide before looking away with a huge grin on his face. He tried to hide it, Steve could tell, but didn’t succeed. So, what exactly did that mean? It would be an understatement to say Steve was confused. His mind was racing. Was he so desperate for dick that he interpreted all kinds of things into other people’s behavior? Hopefully not. That’d be creepy. Or maybe, just maybe, the guy laughed at him? No, that’d be stupid, right?  
The band played a few more songs, each one more brutal than the other. They all put so much energy into the time they had, the mystery guy climbing down the stage at one point to merge with the crowd going wild. Steve admired that. It was raw emotion, music for music’s sake. It was beautiful to watch, really. So it wasn’t exactly that he only stayed until they waved their audience and left the stage just because their fronter was hot. Definitely not.  
Sam and Thor made a move to leave, but Steve wasn’t quite ready to. The mystery guy grabbed a towel and ran it down his face, leaving his hair all messed up. Which only made him so much hotter.

“Hey, care to move a little?” a piercing voice beside him interrupted, just as he felt someone prodding his side.

“Sorry.” Steve replied, stepping to the side so the girl could pass him. She was short, with dark brown hair that was hidden underneath a woolen beanie.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She just mumbled and spread her arms wide open.

“Buckyyy!” she squealed in a pitch that made Steve’s ears hurt.

“Hey Darc’” the mystery guy grinned smugly, wrapping his sweaty arms around her. So now Steve finally had a name – Bucky. He considered this for a minute. Bucky. Yeah, that fit him pretty perfectly.

“That was so good! Like, honestly, you can watch it later ‘cause I taped it all ‘cause it was great!” the Darc-girl kept rambling and Bucky kissed the top of her head. Which made Steve’s stomach drop. He wondered if they were in a relationship. Of course. The cute ones always were, weren’t they? Bucky’s eyes met his and he smiled smugly.

“Hey there.” He simply greeted. Steve had trouble to contain himself. He had actually been spoken to.

“Hey. Great gig.” he felt his mouth go dry. Bucky’s smile widened.

“Thanks, man! Sorry, didn’t catch your name?” Oh, you smart fucker. Steve wondered if Bucky didn’t know his name for real (he needed someone to punch him in the face for just thinking this; good thing he wasn’t stuck-up or anything), or if he was flirting with him. He couldn’t tell.

“It’s Steve. Steve Rogers.” Bucky gave him a weak salute.

“Bucky Barnes.” He introduced himself and Steve smiled.

“Yeah well, that’s really cute and all and I hate interrupting you two love-birds, but you need to move. I need a shower.” The red-headed girl appeared behind Bucky and pushed forward.

“I’ll join you in a minute.” Bucky smirked at her.

“Fucking watch it, Barnes.” A blond guy grumbled behind her and shot Bucky a quick glance, before putting an arm around the girl. Bucky just laughed and shook his head.

“Sorry, gotta go, Stevie. These idiots wanna have shower sex. See ya ‘round.” Bucky pointed in the general direction of his bandmates and started walking.

“Fuck off, Barnes.” The girl flicked what appeared to be a guitar pick at him.

“Wow, what are we, invisible?” Sam murmured and Steve ruffled a hand through his hair.

“Aw, don’t be mad, Sammy.”

“Fuck off, Rogers. Let’s go, I need to pee.”

Steve just shook his head and together they went back to join Tony in their dressing room. It was still way too early to get changed and exploring the place was pretty much out of the picture. So they wound up playing a few rounds of table-top football before going back to the common room for food. Or, well, the others did. As soon as Steve entered the room he looked around. Bucky wasn’t there. Which wasn’t a surprise, really. They had probably already left after they finished. Steve sighed. Having trouble on deciding what to do next, he walked over to the others at the buffet. Taking in the amount of dishes in front of him, he grabbed a plate and ended up with a Caesar Salad. He turned around when he heard sniggering behind him.

“Gotta watch your figure, hm?”

“Got no figure to watch.” Steve snorted and smiled at Bucky awkwardly. Who just shrugged and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

Steve waited for another moment, salad in his left hand, a diet coke in his right. When Bucky simply started putting food onto his plate, Steve left and sat down with his friends. The room wasn’t exactly crowded now, but a lot of people came in, grabbed some food and left again at the lack of spaces to sit down. There were quite a few cushions on the floor, but they were definitely meant for relaxing, rather than eating.

“Hey guys. You alright? No one’s bothering you? How’s the food?” Wanda appeared at the end of the table with a smile on her doll-like face.

She had her clipboard hugged to her chest. She constantly scribbled thoughts on it, things she’d have to do, questions that needed answering. She liked to do that on paper, said it gave her a quicker access to her thoughts. Their manager was a genuine person and Steve liked that about her. Wanda put their well-being before anything else, much unlike Schmidt, who had managed them for a rather short term of 3 months, right after they had been cast.  
A smile flashed upon Steve’s face at the thought of that time, but he didn’t give it much thought, now that Tony was answering her.

“Peachy! People are rays of sunshine and quite frankly, I can’t wait for the meet and greet. That aside, the food tastes great. You should have some. Thor, get the lady something to eat!”

“I’d love to, Wanda, but I haven’t seen anything vegan yet. Perhaps you could have a look yourself? I wouldn’t want to mess up your dieting habits.”

“Thank you, Thor. I will. Do you guys mind?” she gestured to the seat beside Thor, who immediately patted down on the chair.

“Sure!” he smiled widely at her.

His crush on her was no secret, Thor was terrible at faking emotions. Which was why he wasn’t allowed to answer any questions that would have him tell a lie for an answer. Then again, everybody knew Wanda had a thing for Tony’s bodyguard Jarvis. He was the only one of them who insisted on being called by his last name.  
The five of them spent another hour animatedly chatting away, emptying the plates on the table. They discussed current events, the weather and at one point Tony blurted out a cool line that they all immediately agreed they needed to use in one of the songs on their new album.  
Wanda wrote it down on her clipboard, so it wouldn’t be lost.

“Gentlemen. I have been assigned to escort you to your next appointment. We will have to leave in 10 minutes.” Jarvis nodded as a greeting. He was the oldest in their team of bodyguards – Steve was assigned to the second oldest Coulson, Sam to Mack and Thor to Lance – which gave him some sort of unspoken authority aside from his job. He was professional through and through. Sometimes he was hard to read.

“If you will follow me, please.” Jarvis took the lead, the bandmates following behind him like ducklings.

Coulson closed the group, while Lance and Mack secured the sides. They were let outside the building, across a large outside area towards a large tipi in the near distance.  
Steve felt giddy with anticipation. Meeting fans was always a nice adventure. He tried to take in his surroundings, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the place. The people rushing from one place to another. Talking over headphones. Other bands hanging out, a beer being shared. His eyes fell on a familiar red head then. Of course he craned his neck to get a look at hottie. From what Steve could see between Thor’s and Mack’s heads, Crossbones seemed to be having a meet and greet, too. Bucky’s smile was spread across his whole face as he looked over something in his hands and then wrapped his arms around the girl in front of him. He kissed the top of her head and mumbled something inaudible to her. She started crying at the words, but smiled nonetheless. Bucky only hugged her more tightly. He met Steve’s eyes for a second. Tasha was engaged in a conversation with a guy and Steve saw her actually smile at him. The drummer raised a hand and received a high-five. They took selfies. A lot of them. Everything about it seemed so warm and welcoming. Steve’s stomach cramped a little at the sight.  
The group stopped in front of the tipi and was met by Sharon, who smiled at them. It wasn’t heartfelt though, so much Steve could make out. Why would it be; Sharon was working.

“Hello there. You know the routine, right? Don’t answer personal questions, no selfies and one signature per person only. Right! I’ll be back to get you in a minute.” With that she turned on her heels and entered the tent. They could hear her from where they were standing.

“Right, hello everyone! Welcome to the Fantastic Four meet and greet, are you excited?” Sharon was met with deafening screaming.  
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Okay, the band will be here in a few short moments. However, I would like to remind you to stay polite, there’s one picture per person and a group picture at the end. I know you are all very excited, but it would be nice if you could keep the volume at a minimum. So, here they are!”

  
That’s their cue. It always is. One by one they entered the tent, smiling, waving. There were about twenty girls in the room, a photographer and two press people. The light was bright and blinded Steve for a second. They talked to five girls at a time, spending about one minute on each one. It was barely enough for some small talk. Some dove right into it.  
They hugged most of the teens, but it was nothing like how Bucky had hugged that girl outside and Steve knew it. He still enjoyed this, though.  
Some of the girls have thought of poses to do and the four of them were willing to do just about anything to please their fans.  
After 45 minutes it was all over. They were let outside again, escorted back to the main building, where they all headed for the dressing room to finally get changed. Luckily, they didn’t have matching stage outfits like boybands in the 90ies had. But they did all wear black skinny jeans with a grey shirt. Steve’s had a V-neck and Thor’s fainted mythological inscriptions on it, so they weren’t matching-matching. They all went on warming up their voices, various songs being sung at the same time. Thor and Tony started singing Broken Strings as a duet at some point.  
When it was time, they stood around in a circle behind the stage, arms over each other’s shoulders, the other hands met inside the circle.

“Don’t let anyone ever dull your sparkle!” Sam half-shouted. It was cheesy, but this has gotten a ritual before every show. They all threw their hands into the air and made sounds of agreement and entered the stage to overwhelming screaming and people as far as the eye could see.

 

***

 

“Why do you even wanna go? I thought you hated pretentious boyband music?” Peter looked confused.

“I do, okay! I just wanna check cutie out while I still have the chance!” Bucky flung himself into a camping chair dramatically.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m out of words. You make me speechless, Barnes.” Clint shook his head, sipping on his beer.

“Then don’t say anything? Just get your fat ass up out of that chair and let’s goo!” Bucky whined. Was it that difficult to understand?

“So you wanna hook up with one of the biggest popstars in the world right now? Are you sure you thought that through, what with not wanting to destroy your non-existent tough-guy-image?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“I hate you so much, Natasha. I don’t wanna hook up with him, I just want to- ugh, why am I even explaining myself to you? Will you please just come?” Bucky huffed.

“Nah, sorry. I think we’re good.” Natasha buried her head deeper into Clint’s chest. They were so cute together, it was disgusting. Bucky pretended to gag and was flipped off by both of them.

“I’ll come, if it shuts you up.” Matt shrugged. Bucky all but jumped out of his seat.

“Then what are we waiting for! Let’s go!” he took Matt’s arm and guided him.

They made it over from their van to the backstage area and had quite some trouble to even get up onto the stage. Bucky tried his hardest not to roll his eyes at the security guy. He was just doing his work. Very thoroughly. Eventually they climbed up the stairs to the stage and made their way through a mob of photographers to almost the exact spot where Steve had been standing just hours ago. Bucky grinned at the realization. They were a bit late apparently, Bucky could see the four guys already dancing ridiculously. He snorted.

“This is some straight up 90ies shit.”

“They don’t even sound too bad. Do you think they’re using like, autotune or something?” Matt beside him asked.

“Nah, probably not. Think their voices just sound that perfect.” Bucky shrugged.

The song was a cheesy love song about a guy who had messed up and was now wanting a second chance. Bucky had to keep himself from sticking his fingers into his ears. The sight was a mess and Bucky felt second-hand embarrassment at its finest. If Rogers wasn’t so damn hot this wouldn’t be worth it. But just the sight of him in the tightest black skinny jeans Bucky had ever laid eyes on was worth every second of this. That sight alone was rather mouthwatering. The choreography for this song was simple, involving few movements with their arms. Instead there was a lot of hip-rolling and thrusting going on, which made Bucky’s mouth water even more.

“Fuck, he’s so hot.” Bucky blurted out before thinking better of it.

“I don’t see it.” Matt deadpanned. Bucky threw his head back laughing.

“I wish you could, though. Maybe he’ll let you touch his butt so you know what I’m talking about.” Bucky sighed.

Matt smiled at that. But there was something in his eyes, half-hidden by the sunglasses he wore, that Bucky knew too well. It was the unspoken dude-you-should-just-come-out-speech. And Bucky had heard that one too many times. It was not that he didn’t consider it, he did. It also wasn’t like he was ashamed of being gay or something – it was just that… just… it was complicated. Gay dudes were pretty rare among the scene they found themselves in, what with the music they made and everything. Crossbones was just starting, getting bigger, more well-known. He couldn’t risk losing that. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t even looking for a relationship or anything, anyway.  
Fantastic Four went on to play a cheesy ballad, the guys sitting on chairs Bucky hadn’t noticed being put there.

“I have to throw up. This is the worst shit I have ever made myself listen to, ever. Remember that Black Veil Brides phase I had a few years ago? Not as bad as this right now. How are there people willing to pay to listen to this voluntarily?” he rambled.

“I think you are overreacting, Buck.” Matt simply stated.

“No, I’m not. I’m so sorry for these dudes. Don’t they love themselves? They can’t possibly like what they’re doing, right?”

“Bucky, they participated in that casting show with the exact knowledge of the possible outcome, they all signed contracts and stuff, I think they know pretty well what they are doing. That bridge right now? The drums are pretty neat, dude.”

“Yeah, but that’s not even them! They’re just the pretty voices. Is this even music? I mean, seriously, take away the musicians and what are you left with? Four dudes with acceptable voices? I don’t know.”

“I thought you came here to stare down this Steve-dude.”

Bucky went silent at that. He had. So he looked him up and down as he was dancing and then spinning around, his eyes falling on Bucky for only a split second, before he spun around again. He saw Steve moving his head again, looking over to Bucky. He smiled smugly at him and Steve’s eyes went wide, before he turned around again. His smile seemed a little more genuine just now.  
Bucky and Matt ended up staying until the band took their bows. They were all but shooed off the stage then.

 

***

 

“That was great! We should celebrate.” Tony mused the second they got off the stage. He grabbed one of the towels and run it down his face. Steve did the same.

“We will, Tony.” Steve reminded him absently. His eyes searched the area for the not-so-mysterious guy again. He had been here just a second ago. Steve had seen him. Fuck, what did that mean?

“You know what I like the most about this?” Sam asked, grabbing a bottle of water and emptying it over his head. “Free drinks! I used to spend so much on getting drunk, I mean- phew! And now I don’t have to pay for anything? That’s some nice shit.”

Steve would never understand the mentality behind this. People with little to no money had to pay for everything, everywhere. But as soon as you got rich and popular? People started throwing stuff at you. Drinks, watches, clothes – all the expensive shit you didn’t really need but finally had the money to buy. Made no sense.

“I saw him leave already. Maybe he’ll be at the after party?” Sam sighed beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. Steve could feel the color burning in his cheeks.

“I- He’s not- that- shut up, okay. It’s nothing.” Sam looked unconvinced.

Technically Steve knew his friend only meant well- wanted him to blow off some steam just like the rest of them occasionally did. But he also knew Steve wasn’t much about that, so he didn’t push it. He was thankful for that.  
Steve took a quick shower and got dressed in a wine-red shirt and beige slacks. They never had to worry about dealing with their equipment so all he grabbed was his duffel bag when they headed off to their hotel.  
The bandmates agreed to meet again in 30 minutes, so they could all take the same car to the after party. That gave them some rare time on their own. Steve needed these times, as much as he loved the others.  
He considered taking a nap, but then decided against it. He felt agitated, white noise filling his stomach. For a few minutes he lazily zapped through the channels. Pretended not to know the source of his feelings. Tried to ignore it. But when he came across the channel airing some of the highlights from this evening and they cut to an interview with Crossbones, of all bands, he couldn’t ignore them anymore. A familiar smug grin appeared on screen, waving into the camera. Steve was barely even listening. Bucky played around with the microphone in his hand. Listened to the question, brows furrowing. Answering the first question, he ran his free hand through his hair and- fuck, could he not? Steve groaned at the sight. Bucky was so hot, it was driving him crazy. No man should ever have the right to be so hot if he was so completely out of his reach. To make matters worse Bucky licked his lips just then, playing with the little black ring in his lip for a moment. It left Steve longing to know just what his tongue would taste like in his mouth. What it would feel like drawing patterns on his skin. What his mouth would feel under his lips. _What it would feel like stretching around his dick._  
Steve hadn’t even realized his hand had already wandered down south. Sneaking under the hem of his pants, he had given his half-erect cock a few strokes, before a ragged breath caught in his throat and made him come back to reality. He withdrew his hand to unbuckle his belt and shove down his pants and boxers over his hip. There was a bottle of lube somewhere in the drawer of the nightstand and he grabbed it, squeezing a bit of it in his hand.  
On TV, Bucky smiled shyly at something that was said. In Steve’s head, Bucky smiled shyly when Steve settled him down on this very bed, pressing his lips to every inch of Bucky’s chest. Bucky, moaning softly, when Steve licked the length of his erection. He didn’t have time to think about whether Bucky would be a screamer, or one of the quiet ones. If he’d enjoy fucking over being fucked. Right now, he went with the latter. Imagined Bucky’s body writhing beneath his when he welcomed a second finger in his hole. Imagined all the sounds he’d make when Steve stretched his lips around Bucky’s cocks, sucking it gingerly. Imagined what Bucky would taste like.  
When Steve came, Bucky’s name lingered in the back of his throat.

“Yo Steve, you there? We gotta go.”

Steve almost jumped out of his skin at the knock on his door. Even though it was locked, he rushed to cover himself, cheeks a deep red.  
“Yeah, right I- I’ll be right down!” he croaked out and made a move for the bathroom to get himself cleaned up.  
He quickly changed into a dark blue shirt, since he messed up the red one with his come, that fit snugly around his muscles and shoved his wallet into the back of his slacks. Checked if he had his phone and key card and took the elevator downstairs, where everyone was apparently already waiting for him.

“Sorry, I- I fell asleep.” Steve apologized quickly.

They went out the back exit and into a huge SUV with tinted windows that were also bullet proof. Jarvis was behind the wheel, Coulson as second in command beside him. They drove around DC for another 15 minutes. Tony opened a bottle of champagne that he passed around.  
There were no cameras allowed inside the building, a fancy nightclub called Kree, so all the paparazzi were packed outside waiting for their arrival. So they did the usual, threw on their best smiles and waved at the mob, while crossing the few meters between the car and the door.  
It was loud inside. The music from the invisible speakers floated over the chattering of the people already there. Few were dancing; most groups sat around huge tables filled with glasses and various bottles. Steve tried to take it all in. Let the ecstasy wash over him.  
He was greeted by people he didn’t recognize. Talked to them as though he had known them his whole life. They spent another 15 minutes chatting and taking selfies and goofing around, before making it to their table. A waitress with beautiful blonde hair appeared and asked their order. She winked at Steve and chewed down on the pen in her hand seductively. He just smiled at her and winked back. Maybe it was wrong to get her hopes up like that, but he couldn’t help it.  
They spent another hour or so relaxing and downing a drink here or there. Chatting with some more people and congratulating them on their performances earlier in the day.  
Shortly after midnight the organizer of the event, a woman called Maria Hill, took the stage.

“May I have your attention for a second?” she smiled as the room went almost silent instantly “Alright. First of all I would like to thank each and everyone involved in this evening. All you people volunteering to help out, thank you. For dedicating your time, your equipment. Special thanks to all the bands doing this in favor of Say No To Cancer. Thank you. And I guess now it is time to announce how much money you all helped raise today, right? Well, I have the result right here.” She held up an envelope in her hand  
“So thanks to all of you, today we raised- wow. 12,627,437, 90$! That is _incredible_.” Everyone cheered at the result.

  
Steve was speechless; he had researched similar events’ results last week and the highest he’d come up with was a result of almost eight million dollars. Maria Hill seemed to fight back a few tears of her own. It took a minute or two for everyone to calm down again.

“This is just incredible. It’s so much more than I’d hoped for, and it goes to show that there are quite some people ready to donate any amount of money they can give to help us win the fight against cancer. I promise the money will be put to good use. So, before I lose myself in emotions – let’s have a good time tonight. Thank you again!” Maria Hill left the stage and shortly after greeted the Fantastic Four guys personally.

“I am so sorry I didn’t find the time to introduce myself before. I just wanted to thank you again for doing this. I think we all know a lot of donations were made thanks to your fanbase alone.” She smiled.

“Oh really, it’s nothing. Was a pleasure.” Sam smiled back and they shook hands before Maria left again.

“That result is, in fact, amazing but just how much of it do you think goes into paying for all this shit?” Steve frowned and suddenly felt bad for drinking sick people’s money.

Nobody had an answer so they all went on with it. A few more drinks down and Steve was even ready to hit the dancefloor.  
The music was a mixture of danceable club songs and remixed rock songs, so it pretty much covered everyone’s music taste, of that Steve was certain. Sure enough, a second later he bumped into someone, who was apparently part of some sort of mosh pit going on.

“Sorry!” Steve heard a husky voice behind him yell and turned around to see Bucky’s shocked expression. His face was all flushed, and Steve, right now, didn’t look any different.

If he hadn’t downed some drinks already, he would’ve felt bad about the whole hotel room situation from earlier now.

“’S okay.”

Bucky smiled at him and turned away to smack one of his friends. Meanwhile Steve’s heart went into overdrive again. All he wanted to do was to pin Bucky against a wall right here, right now. But of course he couldn’t. So instead, he downed another drink.  
He felt lightheaded already. Sweaty from all the dancing. But if he sat down, he would lose sight on Bucky and in his drunken state that was nothing he wanted to allow. Because while Steve had never been too bad of a dancer himself, seeing Bucky dance opened new spheres to him. The way he moved his hips in the rhythm of the music, ran his fingers through his hair. The way his larynx worked when he took a swig from his beer bottle. How his lips fit around its opening so perfectly. Steve was completely fucked. As much as he wanted to turn away, he couldn’t make himself. Leaning against the bar he felt his hard on sitting uncomfortably in his pants. Thank god his shirt should be long enough to hide it. Steve swallowed audibly. He needed to put an end to this silly… was it already worth being called a crush? No. He didn’t even know Bucky. It was pure desire, nothing more. Give it two day and he’d be over it. Right now, though? Not so much. He needed to get out of here before he did something stupid. Something so stupid that it was only the alcohol to blame. So he turned to the bar to put his empty glass down. When he turned back, he felt a sudden weight against his chest.

“Sorry!” Bucky sighed, face no less flushed than before. Steve had seen from his peripherals he’d been pushed by his red-headed friend.

“Is this a habit of yours?” Steve joked, but swallowed dryly. Fuck, Bucky was so close. He would just have to lean in- no. Nonono that was not an option, Steve!

“Don’t think so.” Bucky chuckled, already leaning away again. “I do, however, have asshole friends, apparently. So yeah, sorry, Steve Rogers.”

“I don’t mind.” What?? Oh my god, why didn’t his brain just shut down all connections to his nerves so he would shut the fuck up.

Bucky gave him a look he couldn’t decipher, shook his head with a grin and left. Steve didn’t know what to make of the situation.  
Yeah, he needed to get out of here. So he went over to where Thor and Sam were sitting.

“I’m heading out.”

“What? Already? C’mon Rogers, who old are you? 90?” Steve chuckled at that.

“Nah, just real tired.”

“Yeah yeah, okay. See ya tomorrow.” He waved goodbye and turned around.

Before he made his way to the door however, he stopped by the washroom. He was surprised to find it empty. So he took a leak, closed his fly and washed his hands. Luckily the blond felt a little less drunk already. He was just about to splash some cold water onto his face, when the door swung open with a force that made him turn around in surprise.

“Bucky.”

“Yeah.” Bucky just stood there for a minute, door falling shut behind him.

Steve was frozen to the place, unsure of what to do.  
Bucky found his feet first and all but ran up to Steve. Before he knew it Bucky was crashing his lips against his. It all happened so fast that it took him a second to realize what was happening. His hands grabbed into Steve’s hair and he moaned softly into the kiss in surprise. Only seconds later Bucky flicked Steve’s bottom lip with his tongue and Steve opened his mouth obediently. The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated, mostly teeth and tongue. Steve didn’t mind. This was all he had dreamed of since he first laid eyes on Bucky. He tasted of booze and cigarettes and when Steve’s hands moved up to finally frame his face there was sweat all over it. It was nothing short of perfect.  
When Steve finally pulled away they were both panting.

“What- ?”

“I’m sorry. I just- I had to do this once. Sorry.” Bucky stammered, looking at Steve in shock. He quickly removed his hands and made a move to leave.

“Hey, no, wait!” Steve grabbed his wrist and turned Bucky around again.

Without a word he pressed his lips to Bucky’s again. This time, he was much more aware of it, but kept the kiss chaste nevertheless. He wanted Bucky to know that he didn’t mind. _At all_. Bucky seemed to get the memo, because he wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and deepened the kiss again. There was a certain rush to it, a need to take this further, to not let it end right there. And fuck, Steve was already game. Bucky stepped forward slowly, pushing Steve along until he was pressed up against the wall. He pressed himself against the blond, who could feel the hard on in his pants grind against his own.  
“Fuck, Steve.” Bucky sighed, pulling away for a second.  
Steve didn’t say anything and instead kissed up Bucky’s jawline and down his throat, before Bucky pulled him up to meet his lips again.

“Not here.” Bucky shook his head, but kept his body pressed against the blond’s. When Steve opened his eyes he was staring right into blown pupils. _Fuck_.

“You wanna… get outta here?” he tried a crooked grin, but the question came out much shier than he expected. Guess it really had been a while since the last time he did this.

Bucky nodded frantically. But then his brows furrowed.

“We came up here in a van, though, so…”

Steve bit down on his bottom lip. Oh, this was perfect.

“I got a hotel room to offer?” he grinned smugly.

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?!”

They took separate cars to the hotel. In fact, Steve was driven back by a none the wiser Coulson and Bucky took a cab. He arrived at Steve’s hotel room only minutes after him. Steve opened the door way too fast and pulled Bucky into the room. He only remembered to shut the door close before crashing their lips together again. Their moves were no less frantic. Breathing through his nose, Steve kept his lips pressed to Bucky’s. Who tucked at the hem of Steve’s shirt already and pulled it up and over his head. He stared at him with a blank expression.

“What?” Steve prompted. Bucky just nodded absently. He lifted a hand to Steve’s chest, his fingertips barely touching his skin.

“Fuck” he whispered then “It’s like you’re fucking photoshopped.” His fingertips ran down his stomach, down his V-line only to find hold at the hem of his slacks.

Grabbing at it, he pulled Steve closer. He would’ve laughed at his comment if it wasn’t for Bucky running his lips across his jawline and down his throat to his clavicles, sucking at his skin lightly, making Steve throw his head back moaning. Bucky only let go of him for a second to take his own shirt off and then it was skin on skin, hot and burning and longing for more and Steve needed _so much more_. Bucky’s hands fumbled with his belt. In his state, though, he didn’t get it open immediately. Furrowing his brows, he let out a frustrated groan. Steve chuckled.

“Here, let me.” He unbuckled his belt a second later.

“Show off.” Bucky murmured, kissing him nevertheless.

Steve nibbled at his bottom lip then, prompting him to open his lips, so he could meet his tongue half way. When Bucky opened his fly slowly like the little tease he was, it was Steve’s turn to let out a frustrated groan. Bucky’s lips curled up against his mouth. He pushed down his pants then, and the boxers he wore with them. Steve wrapped his hands around the small of Bucky’s back, pulling him closer. Grinding up against him, he realized that a) Bucky was just as hard as he was and b), unlike him, still wearing way too much clothing.

“Off!” he commanded, tugging at Bucky’s jeans.

It was a bit of a struggle to get them off, so when they were hanging around Bucky’s thighs, Steve rather impatiently pushed him back onto the bed and pulled them off over his feet. He leaned over the brunet and pressed the lightest of kisses to his stomach. A deep groan escaped his throat. Steve smiled and looked up at him through his lashes. Bucky’s eyes were shut close tightly, head pressed against the pillow, exposing his throat. And fuck, if that didn’t make him want Bucky even more. Steve licked his lips and trailed his tongue up his chest and over his left nipple, swirling his tongue around it and sucking at it gingerly. A tiny moan escaped Bucky’s throat, his body already writhing beneath him.  
This was so, so much better than he had imagined it would be just a few hours ago.  
Hands clutched into his hair and tugged at it almost painfully. Steve trailed kisses back down his chest and stomach, nibbling at his navel. Bucky tasted of sweat and endorphins and it was the sweetest mixture, making Steve’s head spin. Running his tongue down the V of his hips, he stopped short of touching Bucky’s leaking cock with his lips. Even though right now all he wanted to do was exactly that.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Bucky grunted, moving his hips off the bed impatiently. Steve nodded solemnly.

“Yeah, just… top drawer, will ya?” he gestured to the nightstand and Bucky seemed to understand because he sighed deeply and pushed himself across the bed so he could grab a condom. He tore the packaging open hastily and rolled it down the length of his erection nonchalantly. He grabbed the bottle of lubricant, too, and threw it in Steve’s general direction carelessly.

Since Bucky was now laying sprawled out on the bed, Steve made a move to get up on it as well, positioning himself between Bucky’s legs. He kissed up the insides of his thighs and finally wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. Moved it up to smear the pre-come over the tip of it. Bucky threw his head back, a throaty moan escaping him, when Steve gave his cock a quick lick from base to top.

“Wouldn’t’ve pegged ya for the chocolate guy.” Steve teased, the faint taste of chocolate-flavored lube still on his lips.

In response Bucky lifted his head off the bed so he could raise an eyebrow at Steve.

“You’re kidding, right? Chocolate’s the greatest.” Although he doubted Bucky had even given the collection in his drawer a single look, Steve sniggered and, finally, without a warning, took Bucky in his mouth.

Bucky inhaled sharply as Steve started working his mouth around him. Working his tongue around the tip of his cock, he was surprised to find a piercing there, too. His eyes went wide for a second, before he moaned around Bucky’s cock and swirled his tongue around it again. Bucky seemed to enjoy this just as much as Steve did, to say the least.  
He kept it shallow at first, little sucks at the tip of his dick. Soon that wasn’t enough, though. Hollowing out his cheeks he took Bucky further into his mouth, until there was saliva dripping down his chin. It had been quite a while since the last time he’d been with a guy so when Bucky thrusted into his throat, he choked on him for a moment. That didn’t stop him from encouraging Bucky to go on, though. He placed a hand on his hip and dug his fingers into his skin. His head moved up and down between Bucky’s legs. Bucky whimpered beneath him, his breathing shaky and Steve would’ve lied, had he said he’d ever seen anything more captivating. His smile grew brighter around the mystery guy’s cock. The sight of Bucky in front of him like that- it made Steve even more eager to make this feel good for Bucky. So he changed his pace, sucking him off with a lot more purpose in his actions. He kept one hand on the bed for support and moved the other one down Bucky’s hip to wrap it around the base of his cock again. While he kept twisting his hand around the base, his lips kissed up his cock. His tongue swirled around the top, before he stretched his lips back around it and choked himself on him. Bucky felt so perfect inside his throat, warm and thick and like he was made for the exact purpose of fucking Steve’s throat.  
Bucky was so hard that the veins of his dick were visible to the bare eye and he was panting heavily. His moans gradually turned into whimpering. Wrapping his legs around Steve’s middle the brunet moved a hand from his hair to his neck to keep him in place.  
Steve decided – _fuck it_ (literally) - now that Bucky seemed to be close it was as good a time as any. Getting comfortable on his ankles he moved his hand from the bed and put it on Bucky’s hip, only to lower it down the outside of his thigh and back up the inside of it. His fingers slid between his cheeks and over his tight hole just once, but it made Bucky gasp in surprise nevertheless.  
Withdrawing, Steve grabbed the bottle of lube from beside Bucky, opened it with a loud _plop_ -noise and squeezed some of it onto his fingers. The bottle fell from the bed when he threw it onto the bed again. He didn’t care. He got his mouth around Bucky again like he was starving for it. His index finger, now slick with lube, pushed past the rim of his hole. Bucky took it up to the first knuckle like an expert. Gasping, he grabbed at the sheets and bit down at his lip hard. So, apparently Bucky wasn’t a screamer. Ok then. The realization made Steve determined to _find_ the one thing what would get him screaming. Sure enough, when he eventually managed to work a second finger in and twisted them inside him, he was pretty sure he found it. Scraping his prostate for the first time, Bucky let out the most beautiful scream he’d ever heard. There hadn’t been much talking, but now that Steve chuckled, Bucky threw him a heated glare.

“You fucker.” He gasped, gripping into his hair and forcing Steve to take him all the way in.

“You wish.” Was all he managed to answer.  
Bucky thrusted up into his throat as he scraped his prostate again. A broken sob escaped his throat and his body stilled. Steve could feel the muscles of his rim clenching around his fingers. And fuck, if that didn’t make him only harder. He nursed Bucky threw his orgasm, gave his cock another light suck before laying down on the bed beside him for a moment.

“I do.”

The air was thick with the smell of sex already, hot and heavy above his head. Bucky turned his head towards him, his lips lax against Steve’s at first but getting more and more heated with time. He had one arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulders and drew lazy patterns onto his chest with the other hand. At a sudden impulse that Steve wasn’t really expecting he pushed himself up and threw one leg around his body, so that he was now on top of him. Bucky’s lips were so soft against his that Steve couldn’t get enough. He was already addicted, of that he was sure. A hand moved away from his face and before Steve had a chance to realize what was happening, Bucky tore open another condom and rolled it down Steve’s cock. He hissed at the sudden pain. He hadn’t given his own cock any recognition before and now it was rock hard against his belly, pre-come all over it. Bucky threw him a cautious look but Steve shook his head, prompting him to go on. Which he did. With bare hunger in his eyes he got his hand around Steve again, stroking up his dick and over the tip of it a few times. Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He’d had enough foreplay for the night. So he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s middle and threw him onto his back, a surprised grunt leaving his lips. He saw Bucky smiling beneath him and even though it was the most heartwarming sight, he bit down on his bottom lip hard. This was not the time for heartwarming moments. Any more heat in his body and he’d explode. Bucky grabbed his ass in protest and Steve let go of his lip, kissed a path down his body, caressing his nipples and the tense abs shining with sweat. He slicked his fingers a second time (there was no point in this having to hurt, after all) and got his fingers inside Bucky again, who was so wonderfully hot around him that it made Steve’s mind go blank. He could do this all day, he thought, just scissoring his fingers inside him, listen to the throaty little noises Bucky made every time he brushed his prostate. After some time he managed to get a third finger inside him and with some expert self-preservation on his own part, even a forth. They only ever leaned away from a kiss to get their breathing back, although even then they didn’t move their lips away from the other’s body entirely. By the time Steve couldn’t take it anymore, Bucky was already hard beneath him again. Grinding up to get some friction, he didn’t move his hand from Steve’s cock once.  
Steve withdrew his fingers then and Bucky whined in protest. Steve shifted a little, positioning Bucky’s legs over his shoulders so he could finally get inside him. Steve pushed the tip of his cock over the rim of his hole and a little further in, muscles stretching around him. He took his time. Kept his thrusts shallow, so Bucky could adjust and get used to him. Then he withdrew completely. Bucky growled in protest. Literally growled, Steve had never heard anyone made any noise resembling this one during sex ever. He dug his fingers painfully deep into Steve’s hips.

“You’re a fucking tease, Rogers.”

“You wanna watch your mouth, Barnes?”

Getting his point across, he drove home all the way. Bucky gasped beneath him in shock, digging his fingernails only deeper into his skin. Something clicked inside Steve’s head then. He fucked Bucky fast and unapologetically, alternating between deep, fast thrusts and shallow ones. All Steve could think about now was how long it had been since he got together with a guy and how much he’d missed it. How _perfectly_ tight and hot Bucky was around him. He never wanted this to end. Should the others go on with their lives; he was perfectly right here, right now. Every time Steve brushed his prostate Bucky screamed out and it only turned him on even more. Fuck. His breathing picked up, his lips completely incapable of engaging in a proper kiss, everything was sloppy and rushed. Steve felt so close. He didn’t want this to end, but he also really wanted to finish. Instead of giving in, he wrapped a hand around Bucky’s cock and started jerking him off to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Fuck Steve, ‘m so close.” Bucky’s breath hitched and he bit down on his bottom lip.  
He needed to stop doing that. Steve was pretty sure he had no right to look that hot while he did that.

“Come for me.” Steve managed to breathe back.

Bucky went lax against him with a tiny moan as the second orgasm hit him. His hole fluttered around Steve’s dick and he thrusted into him another two times, before his own wave of ecstasy washed over him. He barely managed not to fall down on Bucky just then. It took him a moment to gather himself, forehead resting on the brunet’s chest, panting heavily.  
He pulled out of Bucky eventually, who whined at the sudden loss, and walked over to the bathroom on shaky legs to grab a washcloth. On his way back he also grabbed some water from the minibar, offering it to Bucky who accepted it with a small thanks and gulped down half the bottle at once. They discarded both condoms into the trash can and cleaned themselves off, an uncomfortable silence creeping up on them.  
When they were done, they both flopped down onto the bed again, got under the sheets and were snoring within five minutes.

 - 

When Steve woke up the next morning, the bed beside him was empty. There was no sign of Bucky ever having been here at all. No, that wasn’t true. When Steve got up to go to the bathroom, he spotted a leather jacket that definitely didn’t belong to him in the armchair. He hesitated a moment – going through other people’s belongings wasn’t something he enjoyed, but he needed to know what was inside the pockets. He didn’t find a phone or a wallet, only a lighter that read ‘baby, you’re looking fine’. Steve smiled at that. The fact that it wasn’t left with anything to go with (like a pack of cigarettes) made Steve wonder if Bucky left it on purpose. For him? So that they’d have a reason to see each other again? No, that was stupid. He probably had his wallet and phone stashed in the back pockets of his jeans and finished the pack of cigarettes. Yeah, that’d be it. So Steve sighed and put the jacket down again.  
With a glance to the clock on the wall he realized it was about time to get ready for the first interview of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's that.
> 
> Kudos to [Timo](http://forever-fxcked.tumblr.com/) for helping me come up with the name of Steve's band because for some reason I didn't think of either Avengers or Fantastic Four.
> 
> [Visual representation for Steve & Bucky](http://sleepoverattheavengerstower.tumblr.com/post/133427960151/did-somebody-say-visual-representation-forrunning)
> 
> Songs mentioned in this chapter:  
> Crossbones' opening song: [Architects - Naysayer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jNKGSaGyyg)
> 
> Tony & Thor's duet: [James Morrison feat. Nelly Furtado - Broken Strings](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26PAgklYYvo)
> 
> "Becky": [Nothing More - Jenny](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4x6US_UHvrc).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Well, this took me longer than expected. I'm really sorry!  
> So this one is sort of a short filler chapter, don't expect too much. The next chapter should be up within the next two weeks, however.

_I can hear them whisper as we pass by. It's a bad sign, bad sign._

 

Bucky tiptoed out of the room, trying to get the door to close without making a noise. It was in the exact second the door fell shut that he realized he had left his beloved jacket inside the hotel room. Fuck. Bucky stood there in the hallway contemplating for a second. Was his favorite, super soft _and hella expensive_ leather jacket worth the awkwardness that would no doubt arise once he knocked and Steve opened the door again?  
No, definitely not. Besides, the guy was still fast asleep. Well, shit happened.   
So Bucky made a quick getaway.  
Although, once he stepped outside the fancy hotel another problem came to mind: Where were his friends and how would he get home? Yeah, he should have thought this through more thoroughly before hooking up with a stranger in an unfamiliar city. He took his phone out and sent a quick text off to Natasha. 

_ SOS pls tell me u r still in town?  _

The time showed it was half past five in the morning. Brilliant. Why the fuck was he even awake. Bucky groaned when it dawned on him that Nat might even be asleep. But less than a minute later, his display lit up with a message. 

_ Make us sleep in the van again and we’re gonna have a serious problem. Now go to the nearest Starbucks, grab us coffee + food and text me the address, we’re picking you up. _

Relief washed over Bucky. That meant no five hour trip home. Thank god. He quickly looked up a Starbucks that would be open at this unholy hour and found one a twelve minute walk away. 

Nat drank her coffee black, just like Peter. Matt was usually happy with anything available so Bucky got him a regular coffee, too. Clint would want a caramel macchiato with six or seven spoons worth of sugar. He had an even sweeter tooth than Bucky, who got himself a coffee with cream and sugar. He also got some bagels and muffins to go with the drinks.  
Bucky was one of those people who loved messing around with the names the employees put on the cups, so that’s how he ended up with a cup in his right hand that read _Lucky (Luke)_. He took a satisfied sip from it. The ones in his left hand were for his friends. _Fat, Brat, Cunt and Cheater._

“How original, James.” Natasha deadpanned when he handed her the coffee five minutes later. 

“Original’s my middle name. And before you say anything: I’m sorry, okay? I really am.” 

“Just get in the van, Barnes. ‘S not like this is the first time shit like this has happened. What does mine read this time?” Matt asked curiously, turning the cup in his hand, so that Natasha could read it. 

“Fat.” 

Matt just sighed. They were used to this. That was part of the reason why Bucky was almost never on coffee duty. The only one seemingly happy about his coffee was Peter. 

“Man, too bad. You spelled the fake name wrong, too. It’s supposed to be cheetah – with an a and h!” he tutted Bucky, who just shook his head. 

“Sorry, I’ll do better next time.” 

Bucky needed sleep. Desperately. Exhaustion and intoxication finally taking over his body. He could barely finish his coffee. Peter was the designated driver. By the time they drove out of DC everyone but he had fallen asleep.  
It wasn’t until almost two hours later that they woke up again, one after one. 

“Time to get up! We need to stop for gas.” How Peter managed to be this chipper at 8:30 in the morning with only about three hours of sleep was a mystery to Bucky. He stretched his arms over his head and groaned. 

“You of all people have _absolutely no right_ to make sounds like that in this situation.” Natasha scolded him from the passenger seat, a tired stare on her face. 

“Also Clint, you’re driving next. I need Bucky in the backseat.” 

“Nat you’re so ruthless. I thought you wanted to tell him about us carefully.” Bucky put on his best shocked expression. 

She stared at him for a second before it clicked in her head. He could practically see the lightbulb come to life above her head. 

“You’re a menace to society, James. Be glad I can’t punch you right now.” He was. Natasha would undoubtedly beat his ass. 

“I can. And will.” Clint grumbled, boxing his shoulder. 

“Ow! That wa-” 

“WAIT, DO I TAKE A RIGHT HERE?” The van took a sharp turn right then, pressing Bucky into his seat and the air right out of his lungs. 

“WHAT THE FUCK PETER ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US?” Bucky yelled back at him, only slowly recovering from the shock. He was definitely awake now. Matt was still clutching at his chest. 

“Sorry, man. I sorta just thought about how hot Alyssa Milano is and got distracted.” 

Bucky shook his head. It was a miracle they were all still alive with people like him behind the wheel. Jesus. 

“Buck, you’re paying for gas this time.” Natasha informed him, taking her seatbelt off when they came to a halt at the gas station. 

“Can’t, spent my last money on the cab to the hotel last night. Besides, I already bought coffee.” Natasha narrowed her eyes on him. 

“What?” 

“Why did you take a cab to his place?” 

“What?” 

“Why didn’t you just drive with him?” 

“Uh… ’cause that’d’ve been pretty obvious.” Nat frowned, but then nodded in agreement. 

Sighing, she pulled out her wallet and counted the money in it. 

 

-

 

 

“So, are you going to see him again?” she asked Bucky when they were the only ones left in the van. 

She had her lips slightly pursed and Bucky knew her well enough to know that substituted for a knowing smile in her case. Peter was still on gas duty, before Clint would take his place behind the wheel. He and Matt had gone inside the shop to use the restroom. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

Bucky shrugged. 

“’S not like it meant something, Natasha.” 

“Where’s he live?” Bucky couldn’t quite follow. Natasha did that sometimes. Changed the direction of the conversation so quickly that Bucky got a whiplash. 

“That fancy hote-“ 

“I don’t mean right now, dumbass. But if he’s staying at a hotel he’s probably not from around, right?” 

“Well geez Natasha, it’s not like we’ve been exchanging CVs or anything, I don’t know. Does it matter?” 

“No, not really, I guess.” 

 

-

 

Bucky got home three hours later. He opened the door to his shitty apartment and immediately stripped off his clothes and took a shower. He hadn’t even realized how disgusting he had felt up until then; dried sweat all over his body, reeking of smoke, sex and the beer he had spilled over his shirt at the club last night. The next few days went by without Bucky thinking much about what had happened that particular night. All it had been was a one night stand after all. Sure, Rogers was hot as hell and he would’ve been lying had he said he didn’t jerk off to a mental image of him once or twice, but that aside it wasn’t worth mentioning. He had a career to focus on.

 

***

 

Steve ended up calling Maria Hill the other day. He didn’t exactly want to involve Wanda in this, or, even worse, Sharon, who would no doubt give him a speech about how _unbelievably reckless_ his behavior had been. Ms. Hill looked through her papers with Steve on hold. 

“Well Mr. Rogers, the only thing I can find is a phone number of Miss Lewis, she is Crossbones’ manager. Would that help?” 

“Yes, thank you. That would be great.” So Steve scribbled down the number Ms. Hill dictated, thanked her again and ended the call. 

Sighing, he found himself sitting in front of his phone, staring blankly at the screen. What should he tell this Miss Lewis? _This is Steve Rogers and I fucked Bucky the other night, he forgot his jacket and can come over to pick it up?_ Best not. Jesus, why was this so difficult? Maybe it was best to just get it over with. 

“Yah, Darcy Lewis?” a female voice answered the call, sounding slightly out of breath. Steve knew this voice somehow. 

“Miss Lewis? Yes, hello, this is Steve R- uhm, Steve Rogers. I... uh… met Bucky at the charity festival last week? And I-“ 

“Oooh, you’re Steve! Yeah, hi! What’s up?” She interfered. 

“Uh I- I still have something of his that I’d like to return.” “Okay? Right.” There was a small pause then. 

“Uh. Listen, I’m just gonna give you his’s number ‘cause you seem like a good fella, ‘kay? Just don’t make me regret it.” Saying he never would dare, Steve scribbled down the number she gave him, thanked her and ended the call. 

There was a business lunch he needed to attend to and then he’d head over to the recording studio with the others, so he thought it best to send Bucky a text.

_Hi, this is Steve. I hope you don’t mind that Ms. Lewis gave me your number, I just wanted to let you know I still have your jacket and you can come pick it up, if you want. That is, only if you’re in NY right now of course, if not we’ll figure something out, I’m sure._

He didn’t get a reply. 

It was almost noon the next day when Steve decided he could call Bucky without fearing to wake him. The phone rang multiple times before the mailbox took over. 

_ Hi, it’s Bucky. Leave a message, I might call you back if I deem it important enough.  _

“Yeah hi, uhm, this is Steve. Rogers. From last week? Maybe you didn’t get my message. Uh, you forgot your jacket so uhm, you can come pick it up if you want. Or like, I can send it to you, if that works better. Yeah. That’s all, bye.” _Nailed it, Steve._ Groaning, he put his phone away. 

Well, what was done was done. He’d give Bucky another 48 hours and if he didn’t respond by then, he would send him another text. Maybe he was one of those people who simply ignored voice messages. Maybe he forgot about the first message.  
No more attempts after that one, though. For one, he’d have done his duty, second, he wasn’t a stalker. 

For the next few hours he didn’t think about Bucky much. Not at all, to be quite honest. There was just no reason to; they fucked and went on with their lives. That’s how one night stands worked.  
His call went unanswered, too, though, so he did send Bucky another text in between appointments. 

_Hey, it’s Steve. Again. I’ve still got your jacket, let me know if you want it back._

Another day passed and he didn’t hear so much as a peep from Bucky. Steve was growing rather impatient. Why was it so fucking difficult for this dude to get back at him? Maybe he was busy, okay, but if even Steve found time to text him, surely he could spare two minutes of his day. 

 

-

 

“Just shoot him another message and if he doesn’t reply throw that goddamn thing away, Steve.” Sam sighed when they met at his place for a beer that evening. 

“Can’t be expected to keep this up forever.” 

He and Steve had become very good friends over the years. If not even best of friends. Sure, they all got along pretty well, but Sam was special. He always knew what to say. Or do.  
So Steve followed his advice and sent Bucky another text. 

_This is Steve again. Look, just let me know if you want the damn thing back or not and I’ll shut up._

 

Three hours later Steve had downed several beers and was now at his fifth shot of vodka. He wasn’t hammered per se, but definitely drunk. It was nearing midnight and they had a radio interview at ten the next morning, so Steve said goodnight and hailed a cab over.  
He was feeling restless, the good kind, alcohol buzzing in his system, white noise creeping through his veins. It was too quiet without Sam next to him. The cabbie didn’t speak. Steve didn’t want to be alone, craved company. Maybe he should call someone. Some part of his brain reminded him that drunk dialing was never a good idea and he didn’t really have anyone to call, either. Only that wasn’t true, Steve realized halfway through the ride home. The phone felt heavy in his hands as he pressed the call button. A moment passed. Nothing happened. 

“Lewis?” a voice said, followed by a muffled _what the fuck Barnes, stop it!_ and then he could definitely hear Bucky’s voice in the distance saying _give me my phone, Darcy!_ It sounded like they were fighting for the phone. _You’re a complete lunatic!_ Steve let it happen. _Shut the fuck up, Bucky. I’m managing your life, now, too, okay?_

“Yeah, is this Steve?” Darcy now sounded like she was in control over the phone again. He could hear a distant groan and supposed it was Bucky’s. 

“Yeah, hi, Darcy! This is Steve!” he sounded way too excited, even to his own ears. 

There was no way she didn’t notice he was drunk. And when exactly did they get on first name basis? Steve didn’t care. He was too excited about the phone having been answered – even if not by Bucky himself. 

“Right, hi, Steve! Mister douchepants doesn’t wanna answer his phone, what’s up?” _Darcy!_ Steve rattled his head. 

“I still have Bucky’s jacket.” 

“Uhu, okay. Go on, I’m listening.” 

“And I texted and called him, so he could pick it up but he didn’t reply and I still have his jacket and I don’t know what to do with it.” Steve rambled and heard Darcy chuckle at the other end. 

“Are you drunk, Steve? It’s kinda cute, though, I won’t tell.” _Yo Bucky, do you want your jacket back? Steve says he still has it._ Steve nodded. 

“Hey Steve, when’d you have time?” 

“I can do Thursday, I think? After seven. That should work. Wait, you don’t know where I live. Are you in New York? I’m in New York. I’m gonna text you the address.” Steve knew he was still rambling a little, but could do nothing to stop it. Thoughts were waves in his head, building, tipping over, crashing against his skull. He got a headache. 

“Yeah, in Brooklyn. That’d be great. Thursday at eight-“ There’s another fight for the phone “’ll be there! Bye, Steve Rogers!” _Bucky, that wasn’t so bad, he sounds really nice! – Are you done?_ The line went silent then. 

Steve almost forgot to text the address to Bucky’s phone. The phone call made him feel better. Excited to hear his voice again, rasp and low and yet like honey and velvet. Steve giggled and got a look from the cabbie. The car stopped ten minutes later and Steve must have dozed off, because when he stirred there was a hand on his shoulder, waking him gently but with purpose. He tipped the guy a good fifty bucks, too lazy to count the bills in his hands properly.

 

-

 

As expected he woke up with a hangover for the books. His breakfast consisted of a glass of water, an aspirin and a banana. Coulson picked him up at half past eight and Steve would have slept through the half hour ride, if the road hadn’t been so bumpy. 

“Had a good night, Sir?” Coulson asked when Steve let out a deep groan. 

“I guess you could say so.” Steve grinned, peaking over at his driver. 

Coulson smiled knowingly. He liked Coulson. He was a genuine guy, good at his job. His daughter loved the band, so whenever it was appropriate Steve snuck some selfies onto his phone, that he would no doubt show her later at home.   
Coulson did the best he could to escort Steve into the radio station’s building as fast as possible, but Steve didn’t have the heart to let the girls waiting outside down. Even though he felt like throwing up any minute, he smiled for the selfies, signed ridiculous meme-worthy pictures of his face and put on the bracelet one of them had made for him.  
Sam didn’t look much better than Steve. Then again, Tony looked like he got hit in the face by the Hulk, too. The only one bright and shining was Thor. He was also totally oblivious to the current state the others found themselves in. So this was somehow his moment to shine.  
Wanda met with the band afterwards, shaking her head slightly when they were leaving.

“I’m thinking the next time I tell you guys to enjoy the night, I might want to add that it doesn’t involve as much alcohol.” 

“Aw, now, where would be the fun in that?” Tony smirked, putting an arm around her shoulders. 

“You still have Thor today, though. Next time we’re dragging him down, too.” 

Thor nodded happily. 

“Although I will drink you all under the table, this has been your warning.” 

Sam and Steve fell behind a little. Holding a conversation of their own, not necessarily something for the others to overhear. Of course he had told Sam. Not the others, though. 

“You get home alright? Was kinda afraid you’d throw up all over the place.” Sam is only half serious, Steve can tell. He manages a weak smile. 

“Yeah, I didn’t, though. I think I gave the driver way too much money. Is there such thing? Anyway, I think I called some- Oh my god, Sam, I think I called someone?! On the way? Did I call you? Please tell me I called you.” Steve didn’t wait for Sam’s answer and fished out the phone from his pocket. 

The last call went out to Bucky, but lasted only three minutes. That was a good sign, right? 

“Nope. Who’d you call?” 

Frantically, Steve went through his inbox. Two more messages to Bucky. The first one his address (there were at least seven typos in it). Then a reply saying _kk c u on Thurs @ 8 –D_ .  
Thursday. At eight. Right. Something comes back, Darcy’s voice and something about Bucky, too. 

“Bucky.”

Sam started laughing. Throwing his head back and all, held onto Steve for support.

“Oh, this is brilliant!” 

“Shut up, I didn’t even speak with him. His manager will be picking his jacket up, that’s all we talked about.” 

“Well, finally.” Sam sighs, pats Steve’s back and they both got on with their day. 

 

-

 

So Thursday rolled around eventually and Steve got home at seven, just like he said he would. He changed into more comfortable clothes – light grey sweatpants and a wine red t-shirt – as soon as he got home, ate the Chinese take-out he had gotten on his way and did the few dishes left in the sink.  
His current home, a giant, way too luxurious penthouse on the Upper East Side, didn’t hold many of his personal belongings, given that he only spent time here if he stayed in New York for more than a few days. So there wasn’t much to do to make it look presentable. Especially since Steve liked it neat and clean, anyway. Even if Darcy would barely even enter the flat, Steve felt some nerves creeping up on him and checked the alignment of the pictures on the sideboard in the hall four times. He even got over some conversation snippets in his head. Wondered, if it was reasonable to make small talk, or if he should just get it over with. Give her the jacket and shut the door. Well, he’d see. _One step at a time, Steve._

Steve was as prepared as could be for Darcy Lewis, when the doorbell made him jump out of his skin at four minutes past eight. He got up from the couch where he’d been watching TV (or at least pretended to) for the last twenty minutes, checked if the item was still placed on the sideboard. Drew in a deep breath and opened the door. 

Greyish-blue eyes stared at him, dark brown hair falling into the face they belonged to. The body going with them slouched against his doorframe, lips smiling weakly at him. 

Only the body didn’t belong to Darcy.

 

“Hi, Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm really sorry this took me so long to update! I kinda re-wrote the entire thing three times until I was happy with how it turned out, so yeah. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I do think it's unlikely. 
> 
> Feel free to say Hi on [tumblr](http://sleepoverattheavengerstower.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied. 
> 
> a) This chapter, again, took me longer than expected. I was pretty busy with work and binge-reading The Martian while my internet was down the last two weeks. (Can you imagine??? Two weeks!) Blame the Telekom. 
> 
> b) This chapter is a short one, too. I'm really excited to get back into the depths of this story within the next chapter.

_You stand with your hand on my waist line._

 

 

“So Darcy told me I needed to go see you.” No greeting, no nothing.

Face a perfect mask of indifference. Eyebrows raising when Steve didn’t catch up with what was happening immediately.

Bucky huffed and pushed himself upright. “So you gonna let me in or what?”

“Yeah, come in, of course.” Steve stepped to the side, opening the door a little further and gestured inside.

Bucky stepped through the threshold into the short hallway. Walked past Steve, past the jacket to his left, right into the open living room.  
He stopped in the middle of the room and took his surroundings in. Stood there long enough that the silence slowly became uncomfortable. All the while Steve had closed the door and watched his back. Found himself tongue-tied. Wanted to say something. Wanted to say _what are you doing here_ and _why didn’t you answer my calls?_ Instead he kept ogling the guy’s back like a goddamn awkward teenager. His mouth had went dry the very moment he first laid eyes on him again; black band shirt with some sort of pentagram on it, black Vans, black skinny jeans. No jacket, which was unsurprising, really. The air outside still clung to the warmth of the last sun rays of the summer.

Meanwhile Bucky made his way over to the open kitchen to his right, fingertips touching the surface of the worktop only barely. Steve couldn’t see his face, but he was sure Bucky was just as mesmerized by the place as he had been when he first visited.

“Wow.” Bucky said then, an edge of annoyance to his tone that Steve couldn’t quite figure out.

He turned around to Steve, eyes wide and an arrogant pull on his lips.

“I mean, guess I knew you were rich and all but-“ he cut himself off then, looking around again and shaking his head. “You live here _alone_?”

“’M not that rich.” Steve chose to say.

“See, _that’s_ something only rich people say.” Bucky snorted, pointing a finger at Steve.

“It’s not even technically my house.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s mine for as long as I’m in the city. More comfortable than a hotel. And I don’t always live here alone, sometimes Spencer’s here, too.” Steve was not sure why he felt he needed to add that last part. But it clearly did something to Bucky, whose eyes went wide at the comment. And maybe that was why Steve added it.

“Spencer? Fuck, is he your boyfriend? Should’ve fucking told me!” Bucky went on cursing him to hell and back.

Steve watched him with growing amusement until he couldn’t hold back the laughter pooling in his belly anymore. The pure horror on the brunette’s face was just too much. He let it all out. Even held onto the wall for support, when the laughter shook him so hard that his knees turned into jelly.  
That only seemed to make Bucky even more furious, though.

“Fuck, that’s not funny, what the fuck is wrong with you?! I don’t fucking do shit like that!”

“Spence… is… he’s… my _dog_!” Steve gasped.

There were tears prickling in the corners of his eyes and his lungs were desperately trying to force air into them.

Bucky closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something that sounded like _fucking punk_ , but Steve could not be sure.

“’Course you got a dog. There’s always a hamartia, ain’t there? ‘S the dog here right now?”

“A hamartia? No. Don’t you like dogs?”

“A fatal flaw.” Bucky explained.

Then the mood around him shifted, a wicked grin pulling up on his face that made Steve weak at the knees. He bit his lips, lowered his head and stared up at Steve through his lashes.

“I’m actually more into pussies.”

“Are you now.”

“Only if they’re hairy, though.” Bucky shrugged and Steve shuddered. “And on four legs over my lap.”

“What the fuck? What the fuck, Bucky. That- I don’t wanna think about that. Ever.”

Now it was Bucky’s laugh filling the room. (Part of Steve’s brain wished he had microphones or cameras installed in the room, so he could go back and play it over and over again later, when he was alone again, because, honestly, who the hell allowed a laugh like that to exist.)

So Bucky liked cats over dogs. Or did he also mean to say he preferred girls over guys? He didn’t really seem like the type (the cat-type, of course), but then again what did he even know about Bucky. Practically nothing. He was a blank sheet of paper to him. Lazy notes jotted down someplace random. _Cat person_ , one note said. _Faithful?_ , another questioned. There were few more, barely taking up space. The important characteristics were missing. And something in Steve ached for answers.

“So you like cats better?” Steve said, solely to have something to say, to keep the conversation going.

He wasn’t sure what was going on right now. Bucky hadn’t wanted to come over and now that he was, he didn’t seem to want to be leaving any time soon. Or else he would’ve grabbed his jacket and left, right? So, what did that tell Steve?

“Yeah, I mean dogs are okay, too, but cats are just great.” Bucky shrugged again. “Feel like I need to clarify, though, that I’m not actually into pussy at all.”

He took a seat on one of the stools surrounding the kitchen isle and leaned forward on his forearms. Staring right through Steve. He’s good at that, Steve thought. There’s something suggestive about his posture. Or maybe Steve just wanted it to be. No, there definitely was. The way Bucky wetted his lips and then bit down on the bottom one.

“So, what about you?”

“Me?” His voice was hoarse and he needed to swallow. _Keep it together, Steve._ “What about me?”

“You into ladies?”

Right. Focus, Steve.

“Uh, no.” Steve thought he had seen a small smile forming on Bucky’s lips just then.

“But you did have an awkward sexual encounter with a girl, right?” He didn’t exactly press the matter, but he did sound rather curious.

There was still that bashful smile on his face. Steve sighed and walked over to the fridge, pulling two sodas out. (Again, Bucky didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon, right? The thought passed his brain for a second and left him giddy.)

“Are you always interrogating your hook-ups like that?”

“Nope. ‘S not like I run into them again all that often. ‘M genuinely curious about you, though. That bother you? Don’t have to tell me nothing if you don’t wanna.” Steve didn’t mind.

To be honest, he already hoped he’d stay longer than that one soda. He passed a can to Bucky and sat down next to him. There was still quite a bit of distance between them. Steve started talking again.

“Well, yeah. There was one situation, I guess. Sorta like an eye-opener?” Bucky nodded, understanding.

“Okay, so I was kinda really small and scrawny when I was younger, right?” The brunette beside him scoffed and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I was! I’ll show you pictures if you don’t believe me. So, anyway, I’m like 15- shot up a foot over one summer, put on a little more weight, worked out a little- I’ve never really given a damn about trying anything funny, ‘cause no one ever even looked at me like that, you know?” From the look on his face, Bucky didn’t understand.

His eyes were wandering over his body, practically devouring him right there. Steve felt his cheeks reddening. He needed to clear his throat before speaking again.

“But now they are. And so there’s this girl, don’t remember her name, I met her at work, we talked for a bit and she asked for my number, said she’d pick me up after my shift. Dunno what I was expecting. So she does, picks me up and we drive around for a few minutes, somewhere it’s dark and no-one’s around. She pulls my seat back, pulls her seat back and leans in.  
So we kissed for a bit and it was really awkward, not my first kiss but like, it didn’t feel right? So sometime I pull back and she’s saying I should just relax, that she didn’t even want sex and wasn’t even wet. At all.  
And- and to prove her point she kinda grabbed my hand and put it between her legs? I was terrified and uncomfortable as hell and I didn’t even know why I went with her in the first place anymore.  
She just looked at me and sighed and gave me a lift home. We’ve never seen each other again.  
I kinda feel like I need to apologize to her, ‘cause when I met Johnny like a month later everything was pretty clear. So yeah. That’s the closest I’ve ever been to a girl’s parts.” Steve shrugged again, taking a sip from his soda.

It dawned on him that he should probably not tell a random stranger such intimate facts. Bucky could go to the press. He didn’t have evidence or anything to gain from this, Steve didn’t think, but still. He lifted his head towards the other man then.

Looked like Bucky didn’t know how to feel. There was a laugh hidden somewhere in the back of his throat, lips smiling but pressed together so it wouldn’t come out. Eyes telling a different story. They looked horrified for him. Wide and like oceans Steve could get lost in if he wasn’t careful.

“Oh my god.” He eventually breathed out.

The laughter shaking through his body only a second later. It took a few minutes for him to settle again.

“I kinda feel bad for you, but that’s also quite the story and I really do wanna see those pictures ‘cause I kinda don’t believe the shit you said ‘bout yourself.” He promised to show him sometime.

As they spent some more time just sitting there, emptying the soda cans in front of them, talking about stuff that didn’t matter, Steve felt the shy glances and ~~un~~ intentional touches creep up again. The occasional hands touching when they both grabbed for the same salt stick. He didn’t know what to make of it.

 

 

-

 

Steve shook his head and guided Bucky towards the bedroom, which of course pulled a snarky remark from Bucky. Who flopped down on the huge bed as soon as he was close enough, arms crossed on the pillows behind his head.  
Steve on the other hand crouched down in front of one of the sideboards, rummaging through it for a few moments. (Buying himself some time, he thought, needing a minute to himself. Before he went and did something _really stupid_.)

“If I show you these, though, I wanna hear your story, too.” Bucky shrugged, a _fair enough_ falling from his lips as he pretended to think long and hard about which story to tell.  
So while Steve searched for the one particular photo album, Bucky told him the story of how he have had sex with girls until the point he- not fully sober- hooked up with a dude at a party and it had been like getting glasses.

“Getting glasses?” Steve had asked, not following.

So Bucky explained how sex with girls was like seeing green blobs on trees his whole life and only realizing how amazing _leaves_ looked when he first got glasses. And, obviously, once he had seen leaves he never wanted to go back to unsatisfying blobs.

Steve had found the album he was looking for halfway through Bucky’s story. He had sat down on the bed beside him, back pushed up against the headboard. Listening. Talking to Bucky was easy, Steve found, like he had known the guy for ages. It wasn’t a weird feeling, though. It was nice. Really nice, actually.

“So, you have to promise not to laugh at what I’m about to show you.” Steve said then, suddenly feeling nervous.

This album held a lot of very personal memories. And Bucky was basically a stranger, still, a mean little voice in his head reminded him. He didn’t know if he could trust him. He wanted to, but-

But he’d been disappointed often enough in the past to be more careful these days. Fingers moved over the cover of the album absently.

“I promise you I’ll _try_ not to laugh, okay?” Bucky offered, smiling.

He was serious, tough. Steve could see it in his eyes. He stared into them for probably longer than entirely necessary before finally flipping the first page open. He went to quickly skip over it, but a hand stopped him.

“Hey, no, what are you doing? Baby pics are the cutest, I wanna see you in all the glory!” Steve rolled his eyes at him, but a smile crept into his lips nonetheless.

Steve had kept some distance between them, but now that he had opened the photo album, Bucky inched closer. Elbow pressed into the mattress only inches away from Steve’s chest, head in his hand.

“Aw, Steve, lookit you!” Bucky laughed at a picture of an infant Steve wrapped up in multiple blankets like a burrito.

The older Steve got in the pictures, the less Bucky said. The deeper the crease between his brows got. He occasionally brushed over a picture, as if to make it pull him into the moment long gone. He didn’t ask questions about Steve or his parents and he was glad for it. As much as he would love to tell Bucky about every single memory in front of them, it wouldn’t be appropriate and Steve knew it. Apparently, Bucky did, too. He would, however, ask about the occasion for a certain picture sometimes. Steve would give him just enough information then.  
_My seventeenth’s birthday party_ , he’d say.  
Throwing in an unimportant anecdote that got Bucky laughing so hard that his head slipped off his hand and came to rest on Steve’s chest far too carefully to be unintentional.  
Not that Steve cared much when the guy peered up at him from under his lashes like that. And what was this guy’s deal with biting his bottom lip so damn much, anyway?

 _Fuck_ , he definitely felt his blood rushing down between his legs again. Steve hold his breath. He guessed it didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky, who rolled onto his side and sat back down on his ankles in one fluid motion after a ~~n eternity~~ minute, his face suddenly only inches away from Steve’s.

He felt the world come to a halt. Ears ringing, Bucky’s eyes piercing through him, Bucky’s breath on his face and _was he really about to do this_?

Yes.

Yes, he totally was. Without even thinking about it twice Steve closed the distance between them, lips crashing together. He placed a hand on Bucky’s neck and pulled him in even closer. It took some time for their lips to find a rhythm together.  
The kiss was no less fevered than the first one they had shared in the Kree’s bathroom. It was different though, now that they were both sober and so much more aware of what was happening. It was stiff somehow. Or maybe that was just Steve being all anxious again. No, no, it definitely felt awkward. Lips too tense and movements clumsy. Too much tongue and teeth. Yet, Steve didn’t care. It still felt good. No, it felt amazing. Bucky’s lip piercings pressed into his lips. It didn’t sting or anything, but the added pressure got his blood boiling. So in an instinct, his hand moved to the hem of Bucky’s shirt and he didn’t resist when Steve broke the kiss for a split second, to pull it over his head. Steve wished for his mind to go blank again, like the last time. That all he could think about was Bucky in front of him, Bucky’s hands in his hair, Bucky on his taste buds. But today his mind was racing.  
_Bucky, Bucky, Bucky_. But also: _What are you doing? Is this happening? Yes, let’s do it. C’mon, Steve_. And even: _Are there any eggs left in the fridge? (What the fuck, Steven)_. It was unnerving.

Bucky bit his lips and Steve yelped in surprise when it dragged him back into the real world. Then Bucky hummed - a satisfied sound, Steve thought – and climbed on top of him. Wasting no time to grind up on him. Steve felt his pulse red hot in his ears.

To hell with caution. This time, this one time, he could be reckless. And get away with it.

 

-

 

To say Steve was up late would be an understatement. When he turned his head to take a look at the alarm on his bedside table, it was 9:30 am. There were more than enough days when he got up at four in the morning. This was Steve’s idea of sleeping in.  
Yet, the quiet snoring from the person next to him was evidence enough to know he was still under. Steve looked over to the other side of the bed. The sight was heartwarming really, the messy strands of hair falling into the guy’s relaxed face, one hand tucking the blanket up to his neck and a little bit of drool dripping out of the corner of his mouth.  
So Steve got up smiling. Careful not to make a noise he tiptoed out of the room and into the bathroom, where he took a quick shower. His face stared back at him in the mirror. The dopey smile on his face didn’t seem to know how to leave and Steve didn’t have the heart to force it away.  
He wondered what he should make for breakfast. Usually a bowl of Captain Crunch was enough to get him started, but today he felt the need to actually cook something. He got out two pans and put them on the stove, one in which he fried bacon and eggs, one for pancakes. The batter was an old recipe that had been passed down in his family for generations. He chopped up some fruits and put them down on the table. The juice extractor wasn’t something he had ever intended to buy, but now that this kitchen was stocked with one, it was put to frequent use. Because honestly, who didn’t love a glass of freshly pressed orange juice in the morning? (Apparently, Bucky did not.) As soon as the coffee was ready, Steve poured himself a cup and another one for the guy still asleep in his bed. While he drank his coffee black, he was aware enough to get out sugar and milk, too. Even some fancy syrup bottles that no doubt a certain Sam Wilson had left behind sometime around.

 

***

 

Sunlight danced in front of his eyes and over his face when Bucky opened his eyes. The air in the room he woke up in was stale and the pillow under his head far too soft to be his own. He groaned and rolled onto the other side. His hand wiped at his mouth and flopped down onto an empty mattress. Bucky pried his eyes open.  
Reality washed over him in the fraction of a second. Right. This was not his room. This was, in fact, Steve Rogers’ room. Bucky was up a second after the realization hit him hard in the head. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find himself naked, but somehow he still was. Luckily, his clothes weren’t scattered so much as they were in a messy pile beneath the bed. He put them on, not even realizing that he wore his top inside-out.  
This just could not have happened. Hooking up with Steve once – okay, happened. An unfortunate accident. Blame it on the alcohol. But twice?? Sober? Yeah, no, fuck. He needed to get out. He needed to get as far away from Steve and his goddamn ocean blue eyes as possible.

Bucky checked his pockets for his keys and phone and opened the door. With one hand still on the door knob, he turned around and faced the bed. The now completely empty bed. And then it dawned on him. Steve wasn’t in the bed. Which ultimately meant Steve was not only awake, but also in another part of his penthouse. _Great_ , Bucky thought to himself, _just great_.

There would be no lengthy goodbye scene. Bucky wouldn’t let it happen. He’d walk right up to the door and maybe throw in a _see ya_ but then he’d be gone.

As soon as Bucky stepped in the hall-slash-living room it smelled of coffee and bacon. His stomach growled in anticipation. Bucky ignored it.  
The kitchen was opposite of the bedroom and Steve was in it. He was only in sweatpants and Bucky tried his best to not start drooling again. Even his back was a sight. His plan faltered, when he his focus fell onto the table, all set with two cups of coffee and enough food to feed an entire football team. Bucky’s mouth opened before his brain could catch up.

“You always whippin’ up breakfast for your one-night-stands?”

Well, there went his plan to sneak out. Steve turned around, a surprised look on his face, a pan in his hand.

“Not technically a one-night-stand anymore, is it?”

Right. Oh god. How did this happen? How did he fuck up so bad and got himself into this situation? What was happening? He should go. He should. But Steve was there in front of him, shirtless, armed with coffee and fucking pancakes of all things.

“Isn’t it?” Steve still smiled. God, did he ever stop smiling?

“You always wearing your shirts like that?” Steve pointed a spatula at Bucky, who looked down on himself in confusion.

It took him a minute figure out what was wrong with it.

“It’s a scene thing. You wouldn’t understand.” Bucky grumbled, pulling the shirt over his head and putting it back on correctly.

“Oh, wouldn’t I? Why don’t you sit down?”

He wanted to. He also wanted to run. He wasn’t the stay-for-breakfast-type. He wasn’t. Steve must have seen the pained look on his face, because it was he who spoke next.

“Look, I ain’t saying move in with me or nothing, ’S just breakfast. So?”

So Bucky sat. It was, after all, just breakfast. His body was stiff and rigid and he felt awkward reaching out for the caramel syrup that he poured into his coffee. The tension eased up a little as Steve finally sat down beside him. He immediately began loading eggs and bacon and a pancake onto his plate, poured orange juice into a glass and held it up to Bucky’s glass, an unasked _you want some?_ He shook his head no.

 

-

 

Half an hour later and Bucky was so full that he’d probably explode if he tried to move. There was an espresso in front of him and a smile on his lips. He was glad to have stayed. As it turned out, Steve was quite fun to be around. They talked a little about what they had to do today. About New York in general and Brooklyn in particular.  
Steve eventually asked the question that occupied Bucky’s mind, too. The only important question.

_So, twice. What does that mean?_

Bucky had shrugged.

_Whatever you want it to._

Steve had bit his bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

_I mean, it’d be nice to see you again. You know, when I’m the city or something._

_Yeah?_

_Yeah. I could get used to that._

Steve had shrugged nonchalantly.

_Me, too. So, like, what does that make us?_

_Uh. Fuckbuddies?_

Steve had suggested, a wide grin on his face and Bucky had actually laughed.

_Sounds good to me._

 

So when Bucky got up eventually, it was almost noon. Steve followed him to the door and handed him his jacket with a grin. Bucky put it on.

“We’ll be in touch.” He said and then pulled Steve into a goodbye kiss.

Because he wanted to. Because Steve tasted of coffee and put his hands on Bucky’s hips to pull him in closer and there was no reason to not kiss him.

With a smile that seemed to be plastered permanently onto his face, Bucky exited the building.

And if he snuck out a picture of five-year-old Steve with a huge tooth gap smiling into the camera, only he would know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the original draft of this chapter included another sex scene, however I've decided to cut it. I'm just an ace girl trying to enjoy some Stucky feels, okay? I'm sorry. (And yes, that awkward encounter did happen IRL and yes, it was an eye-opener and yes, I am very ace.) 
> 
> As for the next chapter- it'll be up sometime before Christmas. I'm covering more shifts at work now, I'll be in Berlin for a week at the end of the month and I will start another Stucky fic that is loosely based on that one scene in What's Your Number, so I'll be pretty busy. Sorry again. 
> 
> Feel free to say Hi on [tumblr](http://sleepoverattheavengerstower.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. AM. TRASH.  
> I'm really very sorry for the long delay, life hasn't been too kind in the last few months. I hope you had a wonderful holiday season and a healthy start into 2016! Yay!
> 
> So, here it is at last. I'd promise that the next chapter will be up sooner, but I don't want to keep lying to you.

_Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out._

  

They had had a short argument over why Steve never came to Bucky's place that Steve won by arguing there would likely be paparazzi waiting for him outside his house, so it wasn't safe.

Therefore Bucky only ever came to his place. Sneaking through the backdoor like some fucking ninja because nobody could see him and nobody could know. At first mostly at night, when Steve got back from work, sometimes one of them brought food, other times they ended up ordering in. They would eat, watch some TV and eventually end up in Steve's bedroom. Or, when the few steps over there were too much, the couch. Bucky gave short one-word answers when their conversation would stray too far from small talk.

Most of the time Steve and Bucky shared a quick breakfast the next morning. Just some cereal and orange juice, nothing fancy. Bucky left more than once with a piece of toast still hanging out from between his teeth. (And wasn't that just fucking adorable?) His bedhead was a mess and since he outright refused to use Steve's glorious shower, he opted to bring a beanie instead. There was no kissing goodbye or gazing deeply into each others eyes.

Bucky came over once or twice a week, sometimes more often. One week he had the flu and didn't come over at all, but Steve made sure to send some homemade chicken broth to his place via Coulson.

Steve wasn't quite sure when things started to change. When sloppy kisses and hectic hands became little pecs of affection and a hand looking out to hold another. When Bucky started using his shower (with Steve still in it). When having sex wasn't a primary thought on either of their minds. When they did start kissing each other goodbye – quick pecks on the cheek turning into minute-long french kisses – and they did gaze into each others eyes for too long. More often than not they would end up on the couch with Bucky sharing about his life. That was how Steve learned that Bucky had never met his dad, who lost his life serving. His mom died from lung cancer when he was just out of High School and that his baby sister, Rebecca, fell off the wagon after that and turned to coke and booze. He tried to help her best he could, but she ran away and he hasn't seen her in almost three years. Said missing her always was the worst around the holiday season. Steve kept running a hand through his hair throughout the stories of Thanksgiving meals and the vivid rendition of Rebecca falling from her sleigh and straight into bramble. Steve's sheet of sloppy notes about Bucky became a full-sized novel eventually.

And it was in that moment, Bucky crying and laughing curled up around him, that Steve realized he _trusted_  Bucky. Trusted this stranger, who had come into his life like a hurricane and stayed for the aftermath.

So Steve began sharing, too. Happier stories at first, admittedly, about all the pictures in the capital-letters Photo Album. About his mom who always worried about him, no matter how well he did. About his dad, who was a rough character, but loved his family more than anything.  
But he also told Bucky about a sickly childhood and bullies hitting him up after school. Not stuff that had made the press, fortunately. Most of his classmates probably didn't even realize it was the skinny boy from school on their TVs now.

So yeah, things changed a lot and Steve didn't really recall when or how.

Right now he was in the kitchen dressed in only boxers and an apron, a spatula in his hand. He moved to turn over the pancake, but a ringing noise startled him. Steve looked around for his phone and found it on top of the coffee maker. The screen showed a new message from Bucky and he had long since accepted the warm feeling spreading in his stomach whenever he heard from Bucky. And it was a pleasant feeling, too. Nothing compared to the feeling in his gut the time the milk had turned sour and he spent the whole night bent over the toilet bowl. Nothing like that.

_u @ ^_

Steve spent a good few minutes staring at his phone screen. Long enough that the pancake burnt and needed to be tossed away. Great. Not like Steve was starving or anything. For the life of him he couldn't decipher Bucky's message.

 _Bucky, I have literally no idea what kind of information you are trying to_ _get out of me???_

_that's p obvi tho rogers i was wonderin if ur home_

_Well if you must know, yes I am home for the weeken_ _d. You made me burn a perfectly good pancake._

_ur ridiculous. can i come over? i'm bored ):_

_I'm not gonna say no, but this is your fair warning: there will be a Hobbit+LotR marathon and I will very likely not get up from the couch once._

_if at least u get /it/ up i'm ok. be there in 20 nerd_

Shaking his head, Steve poured some batter into the pan and let it sit for a few minutes while replying to Bucky. He wasn't kidding with his plans for the weekend. The tour preparations wore him out, wading through huge masses of screaming fans wore him out and, quite frankly, he was exhausted to the bones. His cheeks hurt from smiling so damn much. He loved all the hustle and bustle, sure, but it wasn't like his anxiety had miraculously cured itself when people started to recognize him on the streets. He just needed some goddamn down time.  
So no, he wouldn't set a single toe outside his flat this weekend. He needed a time out to refuel. He would spend the weekend with Bilbo and Boromir and now apparently Bucky, too.

It wasn't exactly that Steve was complaining, he wasn't. His life was great, he was doing what he'd always wanted to do. But it undoubtedly came with a price. While Steve flipped the pancake he wondered if his relationship (or lack thereof?) would be different, had he not been famous.  
He could have taken Bucky on a date. An actual, honest-to-God dinner date, nice suits, white tablecloth and everything. Bucky would absolutely resent that, Steve knew. It put a smile on his face. Maybe he'd take him to Coney Island instead. Or some shady underground club with local bands playing and cheap beer. Steve wouldn't mind. He'd come out in a heartbeat, uncaring of the side glances they'd probably not even get because really, this was New York. Nobody batted an eyelash at a gay couple walking down the streets.

And even if Bucky didn't want to come out there'd be options. Steve could take him to the drive-in cinema.

The reality looked a lot different and, Steve couldn't help thinking, colder. They were fine in his four walls. They would be fine being seen outside of them as friends, but the press liked to stir shit up and Steve didn't want Bucky on the receiving end of any of that. If Steve didn't like Bucky and his stupid face so damn much, he'd have called this whole thing off a while ago.

 

_Steve is just about to sign his contract with SHIELD records. Wanda, assistant to Fantastic Four's manager Schmidt, is there. As is Sharon Carter, their PR guru. Nick Fury, CEO of SHIELD records is there and, of course, his new bandmates. Work colleagues, he can't help thinking. They are going through the contract thoroughly, explaining anything and everything._

“ _That means, the first four years of your career, no girlfriends or escapades of any romantic or sexual kind allowed. Sorry, boys.” Sharon concludes._

_Steve's heart rate picks up, hands are shaking and sweaty. He picks up a pen deliberately and ducks his head._

“ _What about boyfriends?” he hears himself ask shyly, although he already knows the answer._

_  
Wanda smiles at him warmly, Schmidt's lips twist in disgust and Fury keeps his stony look upright as always. Sharon purses her lips,but doesn't look surprised._

“ _No boyfriends, either. Especially no boyfriends. I am sorry, Steve” her smile is full of pity as she contemplates what to say next. “Your fanbase is mostly female, aged twelve to twenty-two. It is very important to keep in mind that they will worship the ground you walk on. They will see that you are still available and temporarily think they might have a chance with anyone of you. This is what we strive for, because it sells records and fills stadiums, to put it bluntly. Now, I'm not saying anyone would mind a gay relationship, but as it is, relationships are bad for business. Tony and Pepper have been a couple all throughout House Of M., and people have accepted that. With the remaining of you it is simply different.”_

 

The doorbell startled Steve from his thoughts. He put the stack of pancakes on the table and hurried to get the door. In his haste he forgot to wipe his hands clean and it took quite some maneuvering to turn the doorknob with greasy hands.

Then there Bucky was in all his black glory and same as every other time before Steve felt like he could drop to his knees on the spot. For whichever reason, really.  
Bucky pecked his cheek absentmindedly and all but shoved him out of the way.

“'M starving Stevie, you better have saved some of those- oh my God you're the best.” he pecked Steve's cheek and clutched his chest at the sight of the pancakes waiting to be devoured.

“Yeah, I didn't even start.” Steve took Bucky's butter soft leather jacket after he'd shrugged out of it and put it on a hanger on the wardrobe. That guy had a habit of leaving his clothes where he got rid of them, which wouldn't have bothered Steve if he wasn't the one stumbling over his items all the time.

 

-

 

They made it through the Hobbit trilogy without so much as a peep from either of them, both too tired and worn out from fucking- well, more than once, who kept count - to do anything but go boneless on the couch. Bucky finally drifted off during the final battle of Battle of the Five Armies, Steve following him a half hour later.

Steve took his time selecting The Fellowship of the Ring, careful not to wake the sleeping body cuddled up to him.

Bucky harshly startled awake, though, as soon as the name Strider fell. He almost fell off the couch, if it hadn't been for Steve tightening the grip around his waist. Steve gave him a puzzling look once Bucky turned around, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly.

“What? Yeah.” Bucky replying grumpily “He's real hot, okay?” He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and yawned open mouthed. “Good morning.”

Steve only stared at him for a second before he burst out laughing. How was this guy even real?

“And you have the audacity to call _me_  a nerd.” Steve gasped, mock-offended. Bucky just shrugged and got comfortable again.

“I'm a fake nerd, though. Only here for the hot chicks. Or, you know. Dudes. I'm not the one with a Thranduil mug in my kitchen cupboard.”

“That's just 'cause you only got glasses for alcoholic drinks, anyway.”

“You make it sound like I'm an alcoholic.”

“Nah. But I do know for a fact you drink quite a lot at your shows, so.”

Bucky turned to look at Steve frowning.

“First, our shows are usually at clubs. Not at my home. Second, we're away for like two months at a time. I barely drink at home. You know that. Third- have you been watching our shows on youtube again?”

Steve stared at the TV guiltily, his cheeks reddening.

“You're such a creep, Rogers.” Steve couldn't help noticing the affectionate tone in his voice.

Bucky tilted his head up to kiss the bottom of his chin, before looking at the screen again. Steve just hummed and kissed the top of his head, eyes focused on the film. It has been too long since the last time he watched these. Since he spent a whole weekend doing nothing at all, but spending time with the person he- loved?

Steve sucked in a ragged breath.

The unexpected realization hit him like a brick in the face. He knew it was true, though. He loved Bucky. He loved his stupid humor and the fucking bandana around his wrist like some emo-kid in High School. He loved the endless stories behind every details of the tattoos covering his body, the way his piercings left his lips raw and pulsating when they would have made out. He loved the scattered clothes on his apartment floor and the sound of Bucky's rough voice when he just woke up, just like it was in this moment. The realization was terrifying. He couldn't scare Bucky away with his feelings. He couldn't suppress them either, though, so maybe he was simply and truly fucked. Steve felt a sudden weight on his shoulders, that hadn't been there a few moments before.

“Hey. You alright?” Bucky murmured, voice still adorably thick with sleep.

And just like that Steve felt like crying. Because this stupid boy who hadn't known him all that long could already tell when Steve tensed up because something was bothering him. Yeah, he was well and truly fucked.

“Yeah, 'm fine.” Steve whispered back, barely keeping his voice in check. He hugged Bucky closer to his body and nestled his nose into his hair. “I'm fine.”

 

-

 

Tour preparations would intensify the next month, which meant Steve needed to get in shape in time. He wasn't exactly out of shape right now, but in the time spent with Bucky he had gained six pounds that he needed to lose again. Which Sam told him immediately after he entered the gym adjacent to their recording studio on a Tuesday morning.

“Should've thought you'd lose some weight from, you know, working out all day.” he wiggled his eyebrows at Steve, who just rolled his eyes and did not dignify his statement with a response.

Looked like Sam had put one and one together, after all. Steve had only ever told him about seeing Bucky in a 'we're friends' kind of way.

“That obvious, huh?” Steve picked the conversation up when they got some Gatorade from the fridge.

“Dude, you're _glowing_. It's gross. Even Thor's wondering what's going on with you.” Sam patted him on the shoulder and went to look for said person.

So there was that.

A damp towel hung loosely from his neck as he started the treadmill next to Tony's. Who was still very much absorbed in a phone call with his girlfriend, Pepper, so Steve put his iPod on shuffle and blocked out everything around him. His feet carried him nowhere, but the steady pace was nice and familiar. It helped clear out his head.

The next few months would be busy, to say the least. Steve couldn't say he was not looking forward to it though, has been excited to be back on the road all year. It was just that now somebody was waiting for him there, that hadn't been there the first time around. It was strange. An ache in his chest arose at the thought of Bucky being left behind in Brooklyn. It was stupid of course; his band had stuff of their own to do. He'd shown Steve two new songs just a few days ago. The album will go through the roof, he was sure of it.

There was a tap on his shoulder. Steve took his headphones off and turned his head towards Tony, who looked at him with disgust plastered all over his features. It confused Steve for a second.

“What?” he bellowed more defensively than probably needed.

“Rogers, why the fuck is there someone slaughtering a pig in your headphones?”

“There's-” Confused, he picked up his headphones. He hadn't even listened to the music playing, really. A deep, angry voice shouted into his ears the minute he put his headphones back on. Of course. When was the last time he even listened to another artist? _I really am a lovesick puppy_ , Steve thought. _Pathetic_.

“Oh uh, that's... remember the band from that charity event a while back that I wanted to see? That's them. Crossbones.”

Tony just stared at him for a moment. Obviously he was not into that kind of music, even though Steve barely ever caught him listening to something other than AC/DC or Black Sabbath, anyway. Not that what Crossbones did was anything like Black Sabbath, of course, but it still seemed a lot more similar to them than Beyoncé, one of Steve's guilty pleasures.

Steve focused on his cardio exercise again, Tony lost in thought beside him. A while passed, before he poked Steve into the side, making him jump. He picked up the conversation as if no time had passed at all.

“I don't mean to be forward, bu-”

“Now, that would be completely unlike you.” Steve interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Shush! Now, are you with that guy? Like, you know. Gooey eyes and all?”

 _What?_  Maybe he hadn't heard correctly. His heart rate went into overdrive. Was Tony implying what Steve thought he was? How could he possibly know? Steve didn't mention Bucky to anyone that wasn't Sam.

“I don't-”

“See, I'm not judging or anything. Just wondering.”

“What makes you think I am?” Steve could practically feel the tips of his ears turn red. Maybe that wasn't the answer he should have given.

“Well, first you wanted to see that band and then you eye-fucked that singer-guy basically all day long. You think you're being sneaky when you say you can't come over for Pepper's infamous honey-chicken, 'cause you 'have someone over'” he made air quotes at that “but you also gained some pounds from, what I think, comfort eating. Like I did when I first got together with Pepper. And now” Tony gestured towards Steve's headphones “you listen to that band again. Or still, what do I know. All smiley-face when you mentioned them, too. So. I guess there's that.”

If one thing, Steve gave Tony not nearly enough credit for being observant. He always seemed to not care about anything that didn't explicitly involved him, but maybe that was where Steve was wrong about him.

Theoretically Steve knew he could trust his bandmates-slash-friends to keep his little secret. To keep the relationship he had with Bucky private. Was it even a relationship? They didn't talk about stuff like that. Maybe Bucky wasn't feeling the same way. He probably wasn't. They should talk about this sometime soon, they really should. Even if he risked driving Bucky away. He didn't want to think about that in too much detail. And even if they were in a relationship, should he tell his bandmates? Should he tell Wanda? Sharon? He could just imagine how that conversation would go down. Steve didn't want to tell Tony that yes, he was with Bucky like that, before he talked to Bucky about it. But he also didn't want to tell him no, because wouldn't that be a lie?

“It's complicated.” He settled on. And thankfully, Tony just nodded and kept it at that.

And just like that, in just one day, it was pretty much out in the open.

 

-

 

_Are you home?_

_rehearsing y?_

Steve opened a new chat window to another recipient.

_Hey, this is Steve. Can you give me the address to Crossbones' rehearsal room?_

_hiya!! sure can do if you're not getting Buck into trouble again (-:_

Another text with the address followed immediately and Steve read both texts frowning.

_I've never gotten him into any trouble. That's all him. Thanks. I'll be there in 10. Surprise visit._

Coulson was out with a cold today and Steve had insisted he'd make it through the day without being trampled to death by overreacting fangirls. He exited his apartment building through the underground garage and spent a good fifteen minutes shaking off any tails of paparazzi.

He still checked the mirror every thirty seconds to assure he was still alone. Then again, probably nobody would suspect him in this part of the city, anyway. Steve parallel parked the car in a cul-de-sac and looked around warily.

The building was old and run-down, some windows lacked actual glass and were taped closed with cardboard instead. Steve frowned. Not a very safe environment, it seemed. The door was inconspicuous and the doorknob rusty, the old hinges squeaked when he opened the door. One harsh blow and the door would be blown off its hinges, it seemed.

Darcy had said the room was down the stairs, which were dotted with paint. The walls were bare or plastered with newspaper articles and stickers of all kind. One proclaimed _Go Vegan!_ , another advertised a death metal band, whose logo Steve couldn't decipher for the life of him. There was the faint sound of music above his head, some acoustic guitars and what seemed to be a banjo.

He took a cautious step down the stairs, half afraid the steps would crumble away under his feet.

Suddenly the sound of drums from downstairs ringed in his ears. Steve faltered in his steps, before picking them back up. A second later, a piercing scream cut through the air. He turned right and stood in the open door. Bucky stood bent over, hair in a neat bun, with his back to the door. Steve was pretty certain he would never get over the things that guy could do to him with his voice.  
Clint nodded his way, but he barely acknowledged it. He was too captured by Bucky, who swiped a strand of hair behind his ear and turned to talk to Peter and chug down some water, while the others went on with an instrumental part. Steve had never heard this song before and wondered briefly if it was new material. It sounded slightly different from their usual style and a hell of a lot more depressing, too.

 _This fluid on my cheek, it drains me, I get weak. My heart is cold and bleak..._  

Steve shivered and swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. Maybe he needed to talk with Bucky about more than just the status of their relationship. If Bucky had mental health issues he wanted to know. This shit was important. He wanted to-

“Hey creep. You done starin'?” Bucky wore the microphone cable around his neck as he walked up to him. Panic took hold of Steve in that moment, how did he approach this? They had never been seen by anyone and Steve didn't really know how comfortable Bucky would be with any amount of PDA even in front of his friends. Bucky made the decision for him when he pressed his lips to his. Steve rested a hand on his hip without even thinking about it and wiped a thump across his forehead to catch the beads of sweat there.

“Don't touch me, I'm gross.” Bucky slapped Steve's hand away from his face and eyed him suspiciously “How'd you know about this place, anyway? I don't think I've mentioned it?” 

“Darcy texted me the address.”

“Sure did!” a high-pitched voice chimed in. Steve jumped a bit and Bucky laughed at him.

Jesus. Darcy needed to stop doing that. Appearing out of thin air like that. She sat in a corner of the room that Steve hadn't paid attention to before. She held up a hand, apparently expecting a high five. Steve bent over to her and held his own hand up.

Someone tugged at his shirt. Puppy eyes frowned at him when he turned around.

“Don't ignore me, Rogers. How'd you like the song?”

Steve copied the frown onto his own face, slinging his arms around Bucky's neck and holding him in place. Bucky placed his warm hands on his hips, staring up at him with eyes that looked like the sky on a stormy day.

“That one of yours? It was intense.” Steve frowned at him, but then smiled a wicked smile, body pressing up against the one in front of him. He felt Bucky's grip tighten through the fabric of his thin shirt when he whispered into his ear. “Yet strangely arousing, if I'm being honest. Should I be concerned about that?”

Bucky grinned and kissed him more fiercely than before, tongue invading his mouth a second later, ignoring Peter's gagging noises in the background.

“Gross, guys. Get a room. Jesus fuck.”

“Fuck off Pete, you're just jealous 'cause you haven't gotten laid in forever.” Bucky flipped him off before turning back to Steve, putting some distance between them.

“Can't say I mind. It's a cover though, Black Tears by Heaven Shall Burn. They're German. Really cute accents. You should check 'em out.”

Steve nodded. He'd do that. Natasha walked up to them, guitar hanging from her shoulder. She padded them both on the back, before guiding Steve to sit beside Darcy.

“You two are real cute, but you're interrupting practice, Steve. Sit your ass down and wait for your turn.”

So Steve did, helplessly looking around the room. Darcy tapped away on her phone and didn't seem to notice him at all. The band picked up another song.

“I sure hope there aren't any paps out there, Steve Rogers. We're not equipped to deal with that.” she glanced up with a crooked smirk “How come they let you lose without your guardian angel, anyway?”

“I'm like ninety-five percent certain I shook them off. Coulson's got a cold, so he's in bed today.”

“I'd better have a statement ready.” Darcy mumbled absentmindedly.

Steve spent two hours in that basement, alternating between answering e-mails and sneaking pictures of the band – Bucky – until Clint caught him doing it and told Bucky, who laughed at him instead of properly finishing the song. A blush crept into the blond's cheeks and he tugged his chin in, pretending to stare at his phone. The strings of letters didn't make sense anymore. His thumps felt numb as heat pooled into his chest (Was he being silly? Maybe Bucky was actively laughing at him, rather than with him?) and, quite frankly, into his lower belly, too. Because, god, wasn't his laugh the most wonderful sound on earth?

Eventually, Bucky's friends put their instruments away and picked up their rucksacks and purses.

“We need to get pizza, Tasha, I'm starving.” Clint said, locking the door to their rehearsal room behind them.

“There's no pizza place on the way, Barton.” Natasha rolled her eyes at her boyfriend (Steve wasn't sure, Bucky mentioned it was complicated between them).

“Hey, if you want- if you want I could give you all a lift? Car's parked down the street and I could use a bite, too.” Was he overstepping a boundary here? He hoped not. He didn't exactly consider Bucky's bandmates his friends too, not by a long shot, but he figured if they were important to him, maybe he should at least be trying to get on their good side? And they all seemed friendly enough, from what Steve has seen the last few hours.

“Well, if you insist.” Natasha shrugs. _There's a pink bubblegum bubble missing_ , Steve thought. Natasha radiated that kind of casualness that went along great with a cynic tongue and a big heart.

They decided on a small Italian place not too far away and settled on take-out pizza. Steve drove them there and parked the car. There was a black Yankees cap sitting in the glove compartment and mirrored aviators, too. Steve got them out and put them on, earning him an incredulous look from Bucky in the passenger seat.

“Are you seriously gonna wear shades inside a restaurant, Stevie?”

“I don't want people recognizing me, okay? This usually works, so suck it up.” he slapped Bucky's thigh, nudging him “Come on, your friends are waiting.”

“You're ridiculous. Why do I even put up with you.”

“I wonder the same thing.” Steve pecked him on the cheek before finally getting out of the car.

He was right about the disguise. Nobody payed their little group any attention. He and Bucky got a double cheese pizza each, while Clint insisted to treat the rest of them to a family sized party pizza.

Half an hour later, Steve dropped them and the giant pizza (it had been a struggle to get that thing into the car) off at Matt's place. They said their goodbyes and Bucky climbed back into the car beside him. It wasn't even a question that he would come back to Steve's place, which was nice and made his fingertips tingle with nervous anticipation. Although the situation was entirely new to both of them, something about it seemed awfully familiar. Like they had done this many times; go home together after an episode of socializing. Maybe sometime it could be their day-to-day life.

Bucky held the pizzas in a vice-like grip while Steve maneuvered the car through the New York traffic. He changed the radio station a couple of times sighing, before settling on the one that currently played _I_ _want to break free_. He moved his lips to the match the lyrics silently, tapping away on the pizza boxes.

Freddy started to sing the bridge and Bucky was mumbling the words quietly, then singing out the chorus over-excitedly and pumping the air dramatically. He didn't look at Steve while he was doing it, but Steve kept shooting him short side glances. Bucky had the tiniest smile on his lips and a few red blotches covered his face. It was positively adorable.

 

-

 

Half the pizza sat in boxes on the floor in front of the TV in the living room. There was a shirt lying dangerously close to a half-eaten piece of pizza and if the wind were to pick up, even the slightest breeze through the open window would blow it into a patch of tomato sauce. Soda dripped from a tipped over can onto a sock and into the expensive carpet, but neither Bucky nor Steve paid any attention to it.  
Steve was too busy messing up Bucky's hair with still-greasy fingers, while Bucky chased after the faint taste of pepperoni on Steve's lips with his tongue.

 

***

 

“Rise and shine! You've got an interview with Avengers at ten, lunch with Malekith at two and the photo shoot for Invaders mag after that.”

Several things seemed to happen at once: First, there was this annoying female voice in his ear. Second, the room was suddenly sunlit, probably because the person with the voice had opened the curtains. He could hear the muffled click-clack of heels hitting the carpet. Third, there was a tug on the comforter wrapped around Bucky. He hid his face between pillow and comforter to shut everything out. It wasn't nearly late enough in the day for this.

“Steve. C'mon, you gotta get up.”

Wasn't this just great. The tugging picked up again and Bucky realized that he was still naked under the sheets, so he held onto them for dear life.

“What the fuck? Stop fooling around Steve, get up!” Bucky grunted indignantly and the tugging stopped for a second.

It picked up again with more purpose behind the action and Bucky raised his head towards the shadow at the end of the bed, squinting against the bright light in his eyes. A woman with blonde hair stared at him with unmasked surprise on her face. She wore an anthracite pencil skirt, a matching blazer and shoes and a white blouse and everything about her screamed _Look at me, I'm important and tough as nails!_.

“What the actual fuck?!” she said and Bucky would have laughed at her comical expression, had he been more awake. “Get up. Groupies don't stay for breakfast.”

“What?”

She picked his boxers up with her fingertips, holding them out to him.

“I'm guessing these are yours, then. Get dressed and then you'll be gone without causing any trouble, are we clear?” Bucky grabbed them and put them on when she was facing the wall pointedly.

The bathroom door opened a heartbeat later.

“Sharon?” Steve asked incredulously, a towel wrapped tightly around his hips. His chest was bare and covered in the most delicate droplets of water. Bucky swallowed the growing want away. Or tried to, at least. After all, he was only human and there wasn't much to be done when Steve presented himself like that, was there?

“Good morning, Steven.” Sharon replied levelly.

“Do you mind putting something on?” Bucky frowned, looking at Sharon gloomily. He didn't like her looking at Steve like that. Maybe he was a little overprotective here, so what. Or maybe it was jealousy or he just needed to claim his territory, who knew. Steve shot him a glance, smirked and fucking _winked_  at him, grabbing Bucky's shirt from where it lay on the ground and pulling it over his head. It was a tight fit. His biceps ran the risk of tearing the fabric apart at any given moment. It didn't exactly help to calm him down.

Sharon looked at Bucky and then back at Steve, eyebrows raised. If it were possible, Bucky thought, they would sure leave her face and ascend into the sky. Steve shrugged.

“I see you've already met my boyfriend.” he said nonchalantly and Bucky almost choked on his own spit. Was this what they were? “Bucky, this is Sharon.”

Wasn't that what he wanted?

Hell, yes, it was. He hadn't been sure, though, if Steve thought the same thing. Apparently, he did. He couldn't help but smile stupidly at the damn triangle of muscle and meat that made his... _boyfriend_? And wasn't that a thought.

“Excuse me?!” Sharon shrieked. The poor woman sounded like she was ready to faint any second. “You've _got to be kidding!_ Are you serious? How long has this been going on for?”

Steve walked up and climbed into the bed, pressing a chaste kiss to Bucky's temple.

“Should I be leaving?” Bucky asked him and Steve immediately shook his head with a fond smile, while Sharon exclaimed that yes, he should be. He didn't move.

“Pretty much ever since that charity concert, I think? So, uh, little over three months I guess.” he said it so calmly that Bucky almost believed they'd been _dating_  all that time.

They hadn't been dating at all. It was like one moment there was heat and want and quick escapes in the morning, and the other there was... more. There were late night skype calls when Steve was in an airplane some thousand miles away and Bucky couldn't sleep. There were nonsense conversations and a lot of hand holding and stolen kisses. There was-

Sharon didn't say anything for a minute, Bucky could see the wheels turning in her head trying to catch up.

“I expected more of you, Steve.” she said eventually, moving for the door. The words fucking hurt like a stab in the back. Because wasn't she right? Steve could have anyone. Steve deserved so much better than him, some ratty musician who'd never make the Big Stages, who'd never win a Grammy or whatever fucking award there was. Someone who could actually voice his feelings instead of burying them under tons of layers of wit and charm and masculinityTM . She turned in the doorway.

Neither Bucky nor Steve moved for a while.

“I hope you don't mind me calling you my boyfriend.” Steve broke the silence eventually and Bucky didn't miss the nervous edge to his voice. It ripped him from his thoughts.

“Isn't that what I am?” It occurred to Bucky that he might only have been joking. Although- weren't they better off just being seen as fuck buddies?

“I mean sure, if you want. I wasn't sure you'd see it like that.” Steve tucked his chin in, but Bucky leaned in to kiss him, anyway.

“I do. And I don't. Mind. I don't mind. I'd like to be your boyfriend.” he hated how shy he sounded, how pathetic it was to practically beg for Steve to be his boyfriend, because, again, he was worthless and Steve would surely soon catch up with that. Steve must have thought different right now though, he pressed his lips to Bucky's for the most tender kiss. The taste of peppermint toothpaste lingering on his tongue. Which just served as another reminder for how different they were.

“Good. You have morning breath.” Steve crunched his face up, kissing his nose and Bucky all of a sudden felt like crying.

Maybe it would be better if this came to an end today. When – if – Sharon (she's the PR-girl!, Bucky remembered) would force Steve to break this fling-thing up so he could concentrate on his career. Until now, he had never thought about it like that. Had never spent a considerable amount of time thinking about how fragile their relationship really was. How fleeting.  
Or maybe he just ignored it. Maybe if she broke them up, he wouldn't feel the need to cling to his boyfriend for dear life 24/7, because they were fire and water and Bucky was in too deep already.

Well, it had been nice while it lasted.

And Bucky would rather break this whole charade up himself than risk being outed by Steve's management, being painted to be some sort of stalker or whatever. Every cell in his body tensed up at the thought of all the comments that would get thrown his way, all the hate and the damage it would do to his career. He might be falling in love with Steve, but he still loved music more.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. 'M starving, let's see if the pizza is still any good.”

 

***

 

Sharon didn't bring up the topic again. She side-eyed Steve sometimes during the day, when she thought he wouldn't notice. He thought maybe she didn't believe him, which was just fine with him.

Steve felt drained of all energy. Like it had been sucked right out of him and not in the way that made him feel so very good, either. He missed Bucky. They still had to go through two outfits for the Invaders shoot.

But at least, for whatever reason, Sharon didn't make a big deal out of this (because it fucking _wasn't_ , goddamnit) and Steve would go back home to Bucky tonight. He couldn't lose him. It couldn't come to that. It wouldn't. One and a half years and he'd be free from his contract. Nineteen more months. And maybe, hopefully, they'd make it.

 

-

 

“So.” Steve started and Bucky looked up from his soaked pancakes to eye him suspiciously.

“So?”

“You've got maple syrup on your- here, let me.” Steve noticed distractedly, putting a hand on Bucky's nape to pull him in. He kissed him gingerly, letting his tongue slide across his lower lip where a drop of maple syrup had escaped his mouth and Bucky took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, until all Steve tasted was home.

“What I wanted to say was, there's this bar in Manhattan. It's sort of a karaoke-bar-thingy. And my guys are sort of pressing me to introduce you to them. On Wednesday, to be specific.”

Things have calmed down. He and Bucky enjoyed the time they had together, Steve leaving every so often to meet his busy schedule. Bucky was waiting for him in his apartment when he got back most of the time, since he had been given a key a couple of weeks back. If Steve was out of town, Bucky still stayed at his own place, though. It was nice and strangely domestic in a way that Steve never thought he'd crave so much.

“Okay, sure.”

“Wait, you're saying yes just like that?” He was actually a little confused right now, had been thinking of a strategy to convince him to come along all morning.

“Yeah? Karaoke sounds fun. I can bring my peeps too, though, right? It's kinda just fair.” Bucky shrugged casually, biting into a rolled up pancake. Chocolate syrup was dripping from his fingers onto the expensive mahogany table.

“Huh. That was easy. Okay, yeah, of course they can come. This is actually pretty exciting. I feel like Tony and Natasha shouldn't meet, though. I'm not sure I could handle their combined sassyness.” Honestly, it was exhausting enough to handle Tony's witty remarks alone most of the time.

Bucky seemed to think about that for a moment before he nodded. Although Steve didn't know Natasha all too well, having met her only twice and all, he was pretty certain he got the gist of her personality by now. Whereas Bucky only knew about his bandmates from what he was telling him about them. He knew Bucky cared about them, but probably in a more abstract way. Some days he could still see Bucky struggling with the concept of knowing, _being with_ , famous pop stars. Steve knew he resented pop music and the whole huge music industry surrounding it, but he tried his best to show them that he and his friends were only human, only musicians, too. He didn't really understand the hate, but then again his taste in and understanding of music was simply different from Bucky's. He didn't like most of the bands he listened to, either.

Some mornings Bucky would be in the shower, blasting something that resembled an acoustic massacre (this morning it had been _The Black Dahlia Murder_ , Steve learned) over the speakers and Steve would change it to Nicky Minaj, simply to annoy him. It had back lashed today, Bucky tumbling out of the bathroom naked, angrily throwing himself at Steve, who had fallen straight down onto his ass. They had had a fight over the docking station that nobody had won. In the end, Bucky landed on the unmade bed, Steve hovering above him.

 

-

 

Steve spent all of Saturday in the gym and Sunday in the recording studio, going over the setlist and other things again. The grand tour was just around the corner and it was about time they put everything together. The stage was already in the final stages of being build and put together in DC for rehearsals. The private jet left Sunday night and even though they landed early in the morning hours, there where quite some fans waiting for them at the airport. He recognized Kamala and Teddy among them, who ran their own very successful Fantastic Four fan club.

He took what had to be the thousandth picture with them and signed some things they wanted to give away.

After half an hour his hand started cramping from signing so much stuff. It was a good hurt.

A woman handed him her sleeping toddler and he held them warily for a picture. After he handed the toddler back, he was just about to get into the van that would drive them all straight to their hotel, when he heard the baby-mama yelling after him. It had been only a matter of time, hadn't it?

“I can't wait for you to raise your own kids with the girl you love someday, you'll be a great dad!” she sighed dreamily. This shit came up every. Single. Fucking. Time. Steve swallowed and wanted to turn around to try and smile at the girl, but Tony blocked his way.

“Nah, nobody wants his ugly mug to procreate. That's why he's gonna end up alone with seventy-two cats. You can quote me.” For once, Steve was grateful for his douchey attitude.

They spent two days on technical rehearsal, adjusting lights and sounds and costume changing times. On Wednesday morning they had breakfast with some sponsor, whose name Steve forgot thirty seconds after being introduced to the man. He praised the name and logo they had come up with for the tour – a typewriter-style font proclaiming  _Fantastic Tour_  in bold black letters with a blue line crossing the T to make it look like an F. They took the jet back to JFK after that.

Steve and his friends got to the Howling Commandos late, all of Crossbones' crew already waiting for them in a spacey booth. They all looked slightly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar setting. The Commandos wasn't a fancy bar by any standards, but with its white walls and indirect lighting it still was a harsh contrast to Bucky's favorite establishment. Steve had to this day only seen videos of the Dark Aster, but he could tell it carried its own charm, what with the sticker-covered walls and sticky tabletops. Steve took the lead and hugged them all in greeting, saving Bucky for last. A fond smile crept into the corners of his mouth. It felt like an eternity since he had last seen him and he framed his face with his hands carefully and kissed him delicately. His boyfriends hands gripped his waist forcefully in return. God, how he had missed this.  
How he was supposed to get through an eight-months-long world-tour was a mystery to him.

  
“Well, hello to you, too.” Bucky chuckled against his lips. Steve just hummed.

Everyone ignored the cooing noises Tony made at them, instead Steve put an arm around Bucky's waist and pulled him close, a shy grin on his face. He was pleased to see their friends had already introduced each other, Peter on the receiving end of one of Thor's hugs that quite possibly squeezed the life out of him, while Sam was already animatedly chatting with Natasha, it seemed, which earned him a not-so amused side glance from Clint. Steve chuckled to himself, ignoring Bucky's questioning look.

“'S nothing.” he whispered and cleared his throat. “So, this is my Bucky. My boyfriend. Bucky.” _Ah, yes. Very smooth, Rogers._  Bucky waved at them, a small smile on his face.

“Nice to meet you all.”

Steve eventually had to let go of Bucky, when Tony sighed _What the hell_  and embraced Bucky in a brotherly hug, only to have Thor follow in his footsteps. Only Sam took to shaking his hand, patting his shoulder twice as he let go.

“'S good to finally have a face to go with the name.” Sam smiled easily. “So, first round's on me! I'm thinking tequila.”

The men (and woman) groaned in unison. Not two minutes later, they downed their first shot. Twenty minutes later, the two tables where littered with lemon slices. Positive vibes impregnated the air around the group, everyone chatting over each other, laughing and smiling over heated conversations. Steve tried to keep up with everything, but it was impossible. He was glad they all seemed to get along, though. Natasha and Tony hit it off as well as expected. Matt and Sam were engaged in a conversation about disabilities in war veterans (how they had gotten to that in the short amount of time was astonishing) and Bucky spoke to Thor about his favorite tattoo artist and the pieces she'd done on him. He felt content. This was nice, this was how it was supposed to be. His boyfriend caught his eye and smiled the same goofy smile, before turning back to pull Clint over. Apparently he also sported a tattoo of aforementioned artist.

“Have we not come here to sing? I will open the stage, if it is all the same to you.” Thor announced some ten minutes later, sifting through the songs in the library, before setting foot on the softly illuminated stage. The credits rolled, but Steve missed them grabbing for his beer. A catchy melody filled the air, he was certain he had already heard somewhere. The conversations died down quickly when Thor began singing. He made quite the show of it, too. Twisting his hips this way and that, although technically the song didn't allow for much of that.

_Oh, if the sky comes falling down for you, there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do._

And with that, Thor fell to his knees, dramatically clutching his chest. Considering that they were doing _karaoke_ , it was a pretty good performance. Natasha whistled at him and Steve joined in. Thor took a bow and came down from the stage laughing.

“Thank you, my friends! I need more alcohol.”

They got served another round of tequila and although they haven't been here for that long, Steve felt a definite buzz going on. He saw Bucky hop onto the stage out of his peripherals. He chose a song quickly, but no- that could not be right. He didn't know what he'd been hoping for. They were all musicians and ambitious at that, too. He guessed they all had acceptable voices and even though this _still was karaoke goddamnit_ , nobody would do too bad. But Bucky truly outdid himself there. Never, _ever_  in his life would Steve have guessed that he'd choose fucking Shakira and Rihanna. Bucky's eyes glistened with mischief when Steve looked at him questioningly. Clint's laughter echoed through the room as the music started, but Bucky only winked at him in return, before putting the mic to his lips. He altered the lyrics slightly.

_I left a note on your bedpost, said not to repeat yesterday's mistakes-_

He smiled widely and Steve turned red like a fucking tomato. It was evident why he had chosen this song. It fit fucking perfectly.

_Oh here we go, you are a part of me now, you are a part of me. So where you go I follow..._

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically and went on to sing the Ohohohoh ohohohoh- part of the chorus, but Nat beat him to it. Steve watched him gesture for Natasha to come up to him and she sung the part perfectly. 

_I go back again, fall off the train, land in his bed, repeat yesterday's mistakes.._

Yeah, if this wasn't their song, Steve didn't know.

_I'd rob and I'd kill to keep him with me. I'd do anything for that boy. I'd give my last dime to hold him tonight..._

Steve's smile grew impossibly wider. This was so unlike Bucky, and yet so much him. Steve had long since learned that Bucky wasn't the best at expressing his feelings, if he didn't do it through songs and he didn't mind. Being serenaded had always been kind of his weak point.

Natasha stuck to her part, even when Bucky clutched the mic in his hands and all but growled the last words out. If Steve wasn't all for sex until the sunlight came up again before, he certainly was now and he shifted in his seat to position himself more comfortably.

All the while Bucky walked up to him casually, cheeks red from alcohol and exertion. He didn't say anything, only flopped down beside him grabbing a handful of blond hair and pressed their lips together forcefully. He moaned into the kiss a second later, the sound sending chills down Steve's spine and he re-positioned himself again.

“You need to stop doing that.” he panted against Bucky's lips.

Who got up and flicked his ear with a shit-eating grin. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut his trap again and strode off. Steve couldn't resist slapping his boyfriend's glorious ass. He felt a few pairs of eyes staring at them, but he didn't care.

Natasha kissed Clint when he turned back (tongue and all, it was way more inappropriate than what Bucky and he ever did, come on), who then got up on stage, a smile plastered to his face.

A minute later, everyone was shouting _Hey-ama-heya-mama!_  at the top of their lungs. It felt really good. They even got up from their seats to dance, which resulted in some spilled vodka on Matt's part.

Who was the next one up. Sam guided him up the stairs and Matt asked him to select a song. Finally a song that a) Steve didn't know and b) represented their different taste in music a little better. And honestly, this was hilarious. Because while the entire men that made up Fantastic Four sat back down and sipped their drinks, whipping their heads to the beat, Crossbones headbanged their way through the song, shouting every word back at Matt on the stage. And Bucky, the little shit, stood there with his ass right in front of his face.

_I got the Devil on my shoulder and I just can't sink any lower. The hounds of hell are getting closer, I got the Devil on my shoulder!_

“I need a fucking cigarette.” Bucky panted as he fell onto Steve's lap. He put a securing arm around his waist. Bucky tugged at his shirt and gave him the most pathetic puppy eyes. “Will you come with me?”

“I don't smoke.”

“No shit? I hadn't noticed.” Bucky rolled his eyes and cuddled up to him, resting his head on his shoulder. “But it's cold out. You're warm.”

“Just put a jacket on?”

“Noooo, you ass. I want my boyfriend.” Bucky actually fucking pouted. It wasn't like Steve wouldn't do anything for the guy, anyway. He sighed and signed Bucky to get up.

They went through the backdoor and stepped into what seemed to be a patio-slash-back alley. A bug zapper illuminated the immediate area. There wasn't even an ashtray, which was pretty unfortunate. The whole ground was littered with cigarette stumps and the occasional remains of a joint. Steve wondered briefly why this place didn't have a proper smoking area.

The air was crisp around them. The days were still beautiful most of the time, but the nights got colder. Winter was creeping up on the unsuspecting New Yorker slowly. Bucky shivered in his thin sweater, so Steve opened up his arms and hugged Bucky close to him.

“'S fucking cold out, this is bullshit.” he muttered through clenched teeth, making Steve chuckle. He ran a hand through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“I'll keep you warm.” Steve promised, rubbing a hand up and down his back.

“Yeah, you're a fucking furnace, Stevie. I'd be really mad if you didn't.” he turned away and took another drag, ever mindful not to blow the smoke into Steve's direction.

His boyfriend rested a cheek on his chest, humming slightly. The arm around his middle tightened and Steve tightened his embrace, too.

“I'm really happy right now.” Bucky's voice was barely above a whisper.

Steve took a moment to process the words, and when he did warmth spread through his veins all over again. Bucky was happy. In a dark back alley, a cigarette between his fingers and wrapped tightly in his boyfriend's arms. In Steve's arms. His fingertips tingled. It was a done deal. He would never let Bucky go again.

“I'm really happy, too.” he whispered back just as quietly.

Steve put a finger under Bucky's chin to lift it up, so he could kiss him. Instead, he stared into his eyes and what he saw took his breath away. Trusting eyes looking up at him, eyes full of adoration and a little something more.

“I-” This wasn't the time. And certainly not the right place. It's was too shabby, too soon, too spontaneous, too-

“I love you.”

Steve held his breath. This was it. The line had been drawn, no take-backs. And then-

Bucky's breath hitched. And then-

His eyes went wet. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. And then-

And then Bucky crushed their lips together, wasting no time to bite his lower lip and lick into his mouth when Steve parted his lips with a relieved sigh.

“I love you, too.”

Steve never wanted to forget this moment. It could go on forever. His hands roamed from his boyfriend's mess of hair to his back to his hips where they came to rest. He grabbed him possessively, feeling his sharp hipbones underneath his fingers. It was going to leave bruises. Yet, Bucky pressed their bodies flush together with a moan, burying his hands in blond hair. Shallow breathing filled the air.

And that was when, of course, a voice had to ruin it all.

“Hey are you guys- oooooh, I see how it is. Nevermind. I'll tell them you need a minute. Remember, safe sex is important!”

Bucky let go of Steve with a deep sigh, a mean growl resonating in his chest.

“Fuck off, Barton. You're ruining the moment.” Bucky stared at his friend. Clint stood there for a heartbeat, one hand on the handle, the other on the door frame and then smiled.

  
“You did it, didn't you?”

“ _No._  Maybe, ok? Just fuck off, seriously. We'll be in in a minute.”

“Don't.” Bucky held up a finger in warning, when Steve shot him a questioning look. Did it? Did what?

“Wasn't gonna say anything.” Steve held up his hands in surrender, but Bucky took one of his hands in his and kissed him again.

“Let's go back inside. It's freezing outside, anyway.”

“And here I thought I kept you warm.”

“You pretty much sent me on fire there, Stevie.”

Steve laughed at his ridiculous boyfriend and put his other arm around Bucky's shoulders, guiding them back to their booth where Sam was just finishing his rendition of Reamonn's _Free Like a Bird_. Steve applauded him, while Bucky pecked Steve on the cheek and slumped down between Natasha and Clint. They both clapped him on the back with excited smiles, whereas Bucky ducked his head and flushed the prettiest shade of red. Bucky then gestured to the stage and Natasha stood up and her song choice was pretty on point. The low hum at the beginning, the calculated explosion of emotions, Natasha embodied all that.

_But I got my fingers laced together and I made a little prison and I'm locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me..._

She actually put her fingers together in what could have resembled a prison and Steve was suddenly convinced that she would totally kick his ass should it ever come to a fight between the two of them. Every fiber of her being was fierce and razor sharp, quite frankly Steve was a little scared of her and he glanced over to Clint, whose tiny smirk held so much adoration that he wondered why he wasn't scared of her.

The song came to an end and Natasha was met with whistles and applause as she gave a short curtsy before walking down the stage and grabbing her beer off the table. She took a swig and turned to Steve with a wicked grin.

“Your turn, big boy.” And okay, yeah. It probably was. Steve let out a deep sigh.

“Do I have to?”

“Yup.” Natasha took another swig and shrugged. Clint took hold of her wrist and pulled her into his lap.

He took the two steps up the stairs and looked through the songs this bar offered. Mostly old trash-hits, the occasional country song and some new top-50 hits. A few rock songs, but Steve discarded them quickly. A ballad, maybe? No, that was too cheesy and Christ, he didn't need to embarrass himself any further, did he. _So. Good impression. Think, Rogers._  A particular song caught his eye. Oh, this was brilliant! He pressed the button with a smug grin on his face and took the mic in his hand.

_One morning in June, some twenty years ago..._

He looked around the room nervously. (To this day, Steve got a touch of stage fright before going on stage; everybody and nobody knew about it.) Peter smiled widely, singing each word excitedly. Sam looked just _done_. Natasha and Clint didn't pay him any mind and yeah, who was gross now?

And Bucky. Well, Bucky had this pained expression on his face and shook his head slowly.

_I've been looking for freedom! I've been looking so long!_

Bucky sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, before looking up at Steve through thick lashes. Yeah, _that_  was just entirely unfair. Nobody could expect him to not lose track of what he was singing right now. What were the words? Yes right. Freedom. Hasselhoff. Right. Bucky, that son of a b- very respectable sex-worker, grinned wickedly. Of course he was celebrating his. And the way he spread his legs just a teeny bit further right there? Totally on purpose. That fucker.

Steve looked away and collected himself just in time for the last line to pass his lips smoothly. By now, he was totally out of breath. For several reasons. Inhaling deeply, he put the microphone down.

“You're rude and I hate you.”

“ _'_ m very well-behaved and you love me.” Bucky countered.

“That I do.”

“You're a sap.”

They sat through Tony's very livid rendition of Aloe Blacc's _I need a dollar_  silently, each one sipping their beers, making out lazily when they thought nobody was looking.

“If I had known this'd turn out to be a couples-night I would've brought Pepper.” Tony grumbled as he sat on the couch and downed his scotch. Nobody answered him, but Bucky tugged at Steve's shirt and quietly asked:

“Who's Pepper?”

Sometimes Steve forgot about Bucky's utter obliviousness to the mainstream media output. Sometimes he forgot that Bucky barely paid attention to anything Steve told him, because, _honestly Stevie, I like you a lot but what you do is_  not  _music_. 

“You really are living under a rock.”

“Dude, I am _living_  rock.”

Steve snorted.

“You're a jerk, Barnes.”

“That, too.”

(Peter sung a very enthusiastic version of the Piña Colada song then, but everyone was lost in conversation again. Steve would later ask Bucky about the thing Clint had asked him about in that back alley. Bucky would answer that it was nothing and he hated his friends. Which Steve knew was far from the truth.)

 

-

 

The shops were cramped with cheap plastic decorations these days, houses covered in fake spiderwebs, with lanterns in the shape of ghosts on the porch. Pumpkin spiced everything was served everywhere. The trees shook off the last of their persistent leaves, coating the ground in an array of warm colors. Dogs jumped into piles of leaves in the park, crunching them under their paws. It made Steve miss his dog. He wouldn't see Spence until Christmas.

“Are you ready to go?” Bucky spun around on his heels, apparently not quite ready to go, if he took his unfinished make-up into consideration.

“Give me a sec, Corpse Bride.” Steve rolled his eyes because, really, he was not the fucking Corpse Bride, not even close.

He took his phone from where it lay on Bucky's nightstand (yes, Bucky's. Steve had come to Bucky's apartment last night on a whim) and hid it in the layers of his costume. Their costumes didn't match, but then again maybe that was the point. Steve didn't want to be recognized at the party at the Triskelion, when his absence at the Lemurian Star would already be questioned.

“Alright, I'm good to go. No wait, c'mere and take a selfie with me.”

Bucky used his instagram account sparsley, even less than Steve his, so being asked to appear in one of his shots was quite an honor to Steve. Or maybe that was just the thrill of the _forbitten_  - but since they were both one-hundred percent unrecognizable – each inch of skin covered in thick layers of bandages or make-up – Steve agreed. Bucky snapped a few pictures, selected one to upload and added the caption _the dead are living...happy halloween!_.

Bucky opened the door to a crisp chill and looked at Steve nervously. He knew how Bucky was feeling, the same emotions bubbling up in him over and over again over the last few weeks. But right now he felt nothing but calm as he extended a hand to his boyfriend, who took it possessively.

And for the first time they stepped out the door holding hands, exposing their love to the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs mentioned in this chapter:  
> The Crossbones song Steve listens to in the gym: [Architects - These Colours Don't run](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHHJF2cUwyY)
> 
> Crossbones rehearsal: [Black Tears - Heaven Shall Burn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PzmLgUIdhTw)
> 
> Bucking singing in the car: [I Want to Break Free - Queen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4Mc-NYPHaQ)
> 
> The Black Dahlia Murder vs. Nicki Minaj: [Goat of Departure](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4kCyXLwhN0) \- [Super Bass](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JipHEz53sU)
> 
> KARAOKE NIGHT!!  
> Thor: [Hey, Brother - Avicii](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Cp6mKbRTQY)  
> Bucky: [Can't remember to forget you - Shakira feat. Rihanna - ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3mP3mJDL2k)  
> Clint: [Spirit of the Hawk - Rednex](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yau8nHOXhug)  
> Matt: [Devil On My Shoulder - Billy Talent](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkODPAqcxvQ)  
> Sam: [Free Like a Bird - Reamonn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9VvUO5kaHY)  
> Nat: a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nK75-Ky1ca4">Yellow Flickr Beat - Lorde  
> Steve: [Looking For Freedom - David Hasselhoff](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ot_katYYiU)  
> Peter: [Escape The Piña Colada Song - Rupert Holmes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eyaf1yMHx54)
> 
> Bucky's instagram post was inspired by [Mitch Lucker's last instagram post](https://www.instagram.com/p/ReAKCRKG5B/?taken-by=mitchypoosays). Because I love Mitch and it was Halloween-time and he looks sort of like Bucky. I made myself sad here.


End file.
